A desk is a chain
And a door a weight amongst a wait
And yet men and women chain themselves
To merely familiar similar fates
On a daily basis they do base
Their admirations on those without chains
But it couldn’t be
That IT were THEY
That freedom were found in a more free way

I am a man of little blocks
The world it tears me down
And when I'm broken on the floor
He picks me up
And gives me the support to build around

Thin like the willow
Grey as the dove

Quiet as the wind beneath which pesters the cat floats the wings and sweeps the city streets clean of debris

Dark as the asphalt
Soft as the paws

Lean like meat
Old like soil
And slick like oil as it drips from beneath

Shaking like the bedrock
The running water whips

Damp as the corners
And dry as your eyes
It slips

And where asphalt meets the mossgrown bricks
Corners are placed and worlds collide

And the man within is locked away
Within the metaphorical city street

Would the Central Park I know and love, return to me?
In all such glory

The Willow trees

On days like this
With heavy flakes
Tumbling down
All around
I wish I had another set of eyes
To lose myself in
One more time

*Mirror me
And also you
My mind

The sound of snow is a beautiful thing
Catch every snowflake, you could not
But the earth can
Like the marching ants in the fruitful spring
Snowflakes need not tiptoe through the house of winter
Instead, they patter a song to sing on the frozen ground
And we, as humans are helpless to stop it from falling down
With tiny little pinprick sounds
The reign of winter falls all around*

End of storm
Beginning of season

I'd travel to the most secluded meadow.
The last one before the mountain steeps and the trees die out amongst the rocks.
Not to swim in the lake or the lesser pond.
But to pull a single flower for you.
What else could exemplify this?
The rarity of your beauty to me?

I cast no stone but the honest truth.
That hypocrisy runs in all of our veins.
Around the inner workings of man.
Yet its our own perception of things which pollutes the mission, the vision, the application.
Blacken my eye and ****** my nose.
What will I do?
What can I do?
When I'm not a stone am I with you?

Everyday
I'm going to take
A step
Further away from her
Until one day
I'm in that good horizon
And she
Is wherever I was back then

The soul so crushed that she dared not dare to dream again.

Always saddens me indefinitely.

Not because I wasn’t the avenue to her success, but because she wouldn’t try and be.

More of her former self around me.

Gawd...
Frost is so good.

Gawd...
Cummings is so good.

Gawd...
Dunbar is so good.

Gawd...
Field is so good.

God, am I
Any good?

Gawd...