Your eyes
Could melt
This pewter world,
And give
Power to
The powerless.
But the toungue
Learnt silence.
Statues remain
Intact.
Reality is no place
For dreaming.
Money trees grow
Their sickly, green leaves
As souls cascade
Into foreign soils.
You could've
Melted the world
With your song and dance,
But the rhythm
Has been broken.
The clocks are off key.
Some one
Should've done something.
Why are you looking at me?