No ones got
Staying power

The flowers
Have long been wilted

What we've got to give
Is nothing compared to
When one wants to live

Foreign careers
Along ancient walkways

Shop windows
Tinted with dust and soot

The man alone
On the street
Cleans his boot
With a toothbrush

She left me with a snicker,
A whimper, and a hoot

What do I miss
About the past?

Nothing, and
Everything.

Who are we but the
Products of the past
All struggling
To be different, to be better
From it?

Dead meat underneath me.
Worms in the ground.
The war of the worlds
Mixes with the morning birds;
An apocalyptic sound.

Try to disprove the meaning of life

And

Someone will soon be along to build
Another house of cards.

I've got no secrets.
I've got no answers.
I've got no ways to cope
Through the good and
Hard times.

Persevere?
For what?
To see another day?
A day similar
To the same?

Through the thick trees sits a dimly lit house.
Inside are two children, a silent husband, and an earnest wife.
The husband works while the two children and wife stay home.
They've nowhere to goto, nowhere to roam.
Why go anywhere when the world outside
Is only concerned about their military and their pride?

Outlandish friends cornered
Like frogs in Steinbecks pond.

I should really
Just go back to school.

Rather serious
Out here.

Maybe I'll get a teaching gig
Giggling at kids who
Think I'm funny because of my face.

Everyone needs a failure
To work at never being.

Everyone needs a loser
To rally their future against.

Everyone needs
To make
A buck.