Not My World -

Silent in this place of chaos
Weaving calmly between insanities
Yelling, screaming, crying, killing
This is a city of pain
City of hunger
Home of the vain

I am not these people
These people who see these vaporous things
And see substance
Flesh, and paint, and dry cleaning
Image. Want. Mine.
Mine. Mine. Mine.


I offered a homeless person a muffin.
I see her everyday
She lives out of a grocery cart.
Sleeps on a bed of newspapers
One sheet thick
I know her for her green rain slicker
The wild eyes
Hunched back from years of concrete.

I smile, gentle eyes
But she doesn’t trust me
Not even to sate hunger
By which every creature suffers
I must move on
But I tried

Weaving through the madness
Avoiding the rampant plague
Sleeping away the hurt in my soul
I see every moment of every day
Weary, tired
Strong, I stand up
Spirit mild

They see, but they don’t understand
I feel them watching me
They see, but they can’t comprehend.
Some hate me for it
And some watch in wonder
I do nothing but be myself
So much is the plunder
I place most of me on a shelf
Safe from this worlds failed health

And he would form me into what I am not
But I am a rock in what I am
I change as I will it
And no mortal flame can purdge me
If I do not allow it


Peace is foreign here
Calm is absent
And a moment beside a tree
Is a moment lost
A moment toward money abandoned
This is not my world.
This is not my world.