Staring at the large hands high upon the wall
they scribble words with their worn-out pencils
chewed to the lead by anxious lips
why won’t the clock speed its course to recess?!
It may be that time has slowed to tease those who rush
for you see, none can wait to build that house
and watch from a safe distance the faithful buddy
who protects the roaring decades ahead.
From time to time some rest in the evening breeze
a week stolen from the busy streets made of gold
to drown into a sunset beyond the ocean line
the taste of salt barely seeping through their weary suits.
When wrinkles settle in the grooves of an ageing tale
they may not run the race of their wasted youths
yet they still seem to set aims to an impossible future
raggedy limbs trembling to the threat of unlikely dreams.
It is the wish no one will be denied, as they stumble
eager to find a place in a history too large for them
looking back to years that Not Much Ado About It
There was a profile somewhere in cyberspace
someone looking for hope in friendship
truthful to a fault perhaps.
Not much to look at after all these years
often sad in dark corners of crowded rooms
at home nowhere, afraid to be seen.
Why pretend to be a dream to strangers
claim happiness when all there is, is misery
deeper and stronger by the hour.
Desperate enough to fear a conversation
speaking of a future when one may not exist
an image a little blurry with perpetual tears.
The words warn that it may be wasted time
to read the plea of this lost soul
for knowing him may only bring pain.
Is it too much to ask for comfort here
they say it’s not all what you might imagine
those who find warmth in every corner of their abode.
She smiles in the depth of those greens
a gate open to the breath of a great heart
hair flowing red to her bare shoulders.
Freckles make her an eternal child
fragile as if fallen, wingless from the nest
she cries hidden by the towering crowds.
It may be too late for her gift
and she asks why with a quiet prayer
none seems to see her in all her magnificence.
The portrait remains uncertain as his fate
in the hands of humanity, cared by no one
will he perish ignored on an icy table?
Perhaps they must continue the masquerade
to seduce those afraid of a burden
seeking only a sidekick for their incessant laughter.
Gentle eyes tending to a reassuring embrace
moments shared with another’s intimacy
are they to die under a pale veil?
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