the directions written on the paper
are written to confuse and confound
the beasts reveal themselves through
the motion
while their eyes show a soul
it takes time to understand what
let alone why that it was written
especially this way that conveys
nothing beyond
the eyes that glimmer so
the soul stops Here but only for a ride
to cruise the city streets
to run through rural fields
fighting scarecrows
stopping farmers from killing
the harvest is the human alone
a good harvest indicates a good year
a bad harvest indicates a bad seed
allowed to form bonds
under the surface of the dirt
this is the map of growth and experience
the waiting is what kills you
queue upon queue of waiting
like a river dribbling people over
to sort their way through more lines
patience should be easy
patience is the way to meet such a challenge
impatience, however, is far sooner
revealed and realized
as the blood begins to boil
as annoyance takes its’ toll
this isn’t the place for weakness
weakness should be kept to
the infirm who cannot reach
to make known the need for help
help out from progressing lines
for freedom from waiting
creeping
the thoughts
pour out
too
much
too
quickly
insanely
dripping
slipping…
drip…
drip…
drip…
dripping
dropping
from depths
above us rain falls thunderous…
‘a wasted…aftermath…with hostile mistakes…’
‘swirls…against…me being insane…’
It is while in this state of decay, that I find an effervescence in a morbid fascination to stare down at that reflection that lies just on the other side, but that lives to reflect at us from the people that we know and love…