a walk through the ruins
broken pieces
shattered dreams
haunting silence
taunting remnants
history in heaps.

a little flower pot
black damp soil
fresh shoots of life
blooms and startles
make it right
or wrong
its clay in
your hands
mould or crumble it
water or wither
it will.

past holds
present sustains
future beckons
my spirit undulates.

`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;`;

pieces drearily moving along
automated most oft than not
we're all intrinsically caught
in this maddening tidal song.

we crawl or even glide
at times we get to soar
and then tend to ignore
the entreaties from inside.

move together, but are we
bound and fettered as one
it surely gets undone
this farce we don for free.

dismantle from the weird cog
think you found your liberty
the spokes are for infinity
youre better off in the bog.

a sweet strain from nowhere
wafts along n seems to implore
give in and hold back no more
do as you wish it sure is fair.