It continues to bring us 24 hours,
We roll, we jump, we get a move on.
The squares are different sizes and colors,
But we are not the pawn.
We pick one up with each passing hour,
It may look pretty it may taste sour.
But we move.
And we try.
Rain drops of thunder lightning and foggy mornings;
And we can all cry.
It’s only this.
It’s all that we know.
An angel may come for us one day,
But until then we have dreams to grow.
I stumbled and mumbled and ate my oats,
I wish a pastry filled with goo.
But what’s the care, I twisted my hair,
And my bare white feet walked me through.
A bow tie does not make him smart,
His words not a story book of intellect.
We could observe for a thousand hours,
But no true mind is patient enough to dissect.
My legs far too short for my pants,
With one swoop would swallow some ants.
But I kept on trotting,
My brain waves electrifying and rotting.
My boards a breaking and my legs shaking,
And sinking in the couch brought my eyes to waking.
Looking up to see a wall, a picture, a clock.
Out the window a bird, some geese, a whole big family flock.
But I met eyes,
That looked just as mine.
A different shade, but with hope un-likely to fade,
In essence a similar design.
The quacking, the ticking, the hair and nail picking,
It all vanished as I focused on a word.
Silent was the room that I sat in,
Listening ears and voice to be heard.
Soon enough it was all chaotic again,
I was out back in the bare cold sky.
Where did the bird go? He.. was just here.
I was going to ask him if I could too, fly.
Dripping, chilly; a cheeky tear.
Compared to all, this droplet was so mere.
Suddenly there was no air in this space,
The wide vicinity of the land.
In the race to the door my legs were losing,
I could hardly, barely stand.
Ya there was another couch,
turn key, right past the door.
A deep black hole grabbing for me,
Swirling forever so one cannot soar.
It’s still not the end, just the middle of the bend.
I’m not sinking nor winking,
But I’m breathing and blinking.
Rolling later on, until hopping into the dawn,
Nothing has vanished; we pick up the pawn.
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