my need for words
is like
brown candy bars
from days
where delight
grew in trees
and joy
travelled in
toy cars
when pieces
of my heart
were still intact
moving in rhythms
looking for friends
to join a pact
of bliss written
on walls
and roaming
the high streets
to find
good food stalls
that are now history
like candy bars
from the past
and cars one
could trust
to stay put
lined up
and boxed
like a heart
that knows
not where to start
putting together
the zillion pieces
the random shards
of people
who failed the pact
and walked the earth
in search of birds
for wings
they could not have
in search of words
they could
possibly sing