Life going up flights of stairs too many missed steps,
                     too many cares,
Life going down the same repetitive staircase, when
you get to
                the top or bottom,
                                              toe tapping,
                                                        ­        what stares
                                                          ­                        you in the face?
Go ahead tell it to the mountain of concrete,
Go ahead break out the map and compass,
                                     don't get pompous,
                                                        ­            find a way through the concrete jungle,
                                                         ­        hey you might find the treasure or bungle,
your way,
the way,
              you did it, better than expected, sing a duet with Frank, while the rest
                                                            ­                                 tank the results,
of shame,
no game,
cold hands
                  of stone
                              touching the frigid corpse
                                                          ­            of a loved one,
                                                            ­                              time to say good-bye  
oh why
             do we
                       miss the
                                    ones that
                                                   fill us
                                                            wi­th regret
                                                          ­                   of more shame,

WHY can't the stairway to heaven be found
  all there is to walk on, is down and down,

wanting to climb out of the basement for a change,
wanting to climb onto a roof top and sing a refrain,
with JT,
needing to sing a Hallelujah, from the gut
                      still it never gets beyond but...

dancing is out,
singing is a bust,
leave enough ink to write with
words covered in rust,
that flakes and falls
like snow gone old,
so no story gets told.

Another day on the gravy train, the office is closed for Another Day,
                                                                ­               in a bad way, so,
"So won't you stay, a little bit longer"
she turns to walk away,
"please please say that you will"
the shape and shadow grows smaller
as the pit in my stomach grows more hollow,
                                                         ­                emptied out.

That moment, lasted only a moment,
                                                         now emptied out.


©DWE122013