it’s torture i tell ya
being among all those people
quiet and deftly hidden I wait
i haven’t been broken yet, just worn down
i’ve caught a glimpses of those who are
unsaid and un-shown
you can see it in their eyes
tired
i’ve had that look from time to time
gazing in the mirror late at night
loneliness will kill you slow
if you let it
but
boredom is worse
that’s the one
that will turn you old before your time
hardened
i no longer wish to play the villain
tv death, in the abyss of self abuse
it seems all this media is killing us
distractions dividing mind and soul
but for now just stop,
forget the nearly empty bottle
sitting on the counter
and walk well through the fire
strike at the heart of complacency
and forge with words and deeds
bonds strong and new
look past the dawn
there’s blue sky behind
those grey clouds
it’s hard to find color
in a bleached out world
but it’s there if you wish to see
i look for smiles on the faces of strangers
absent glances from a golden cat
and pure white snow, soft in the morning
sometimes it’s hard to write in such a small room
with just the hum of my Mac
and the deadlines of life closing in
every morning, bedeviled, I try
not to burn my tongue with bitter coffee
but just write a few words, and
perhaps summon the strength of ancestors
their tales of struggle and victory
were always there, abandoned,
and waiting to be claimed