I sit in a cluster of people, 

and God, I wonder if this is legal!

If the people complain about the wind that howls, 

then what about the prowls?

The town, oh so scared. 

Some cried out, despaired. 

A wilting flower is all that’s left

especially from the broken-hearted theft. 

You can hear the laments of the sky, 

but all you do is sigh and wave goodbye, 

then all you do is drown in ignorance.

If Icarus found joy in the fall, 

then why must we continue to stall?

If continuing to reach for the sun leads to collapse, 

then my death is worth it, perhaps. 

The sun continues to shine, 

and the world knows it’s in the design. 

Yet I crave to find a place,

waiting for a warm embrace. 

So where can I go? 

Oh, how I feel so slow. 

I wish to change, 

but I no longer feel of age. 

This body is dying, 

but I keep on denying

the true nature of my being.

Are you a dream, or just visiting?
You pull and recede,
teasing not the right word.

I wish you were permanent,
like a mountain.
Yet your cold eyes remind me of what couldn’t.

Rivers flow down,
feeding into your hungry ocean.
You love to break what you don’t control.

With gentle caress,
you smooth my face,
wiping away the broken promises you will drag into tomorrow.

If I touch you now,
will you fade away into the distance,
or will you rage?

I may not move,
but the trees tremor and the birds no longer sing.

How much longer until I must leave too?
Or will we keep circling like little fish were meant to
in your river of a thousand bodies and worlds?

Shattered glass,
and God, these kids are crass.
Looking in a mirror,
I wish it could reconsider.

I’ve stared at my face,
but really, it’s just a disgrace.
These blemishes have longed tainted,
and cannot be unpainted.

I wish it was kinder,
or maybe I should put a reminder,
that I am no different than the trees and their bark.

Thankfully,
I can grow substantially.
I wish that I can branch out continuously,
the leaves growing habitually.

I will continue to mark where I have been,
and people will know because of my grin.

I reach my hand out,
yet there is nothing there.
The fields of gold yield nothing
but poison for the rich.

I’ve got toxins in my head,
and nothing seems to help.
My heart is full of doubt,
and I wish I could taste that free wind.

But maybe it was never meant to be.
Between you and me,
it was always you that was meant to run wild.

I’m only too far away,
and I wish I was right there.
There where the gold runs emerald.
There where we continue to run wild.

But I’m too far,
I’ve got toxins in my head,
my head is full of doubt,
and nothing seems to help.

I wish I could feel that wind run wild,
free like the birds that continue to sing.
But my grave lies here,
Far beyond the field.