Thrown, abandoned;
A lit cigarette in the grass,
A silhouette against
Unforgiving concrete.
There is no map
To this Never-faltering
Reality.
Discarded, exhaled;
A sad puff of a sigh,
The moon reflecting
Unforgiving concrete.
In the static,
How shall you swim
To safety?
Clear, glistening;
A glimmer of a thought,
A realization in
White noise.
How will you trod
Along the path;
A road that isn't there,
Even in dreams -
In the soft
Crooning voice
Of hope -
In the breathy
Music that flows
From the heart?
If there is no map,
How shall you swim
Below that path
Of unforgiving
Concrete?
Author notes
yeah. It kind of sucks.
But at least it's real.
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