Pavement of Repetition Part 1

Walking the path each day introverted thoughts in cased in my skull a boneyard of ebbing memories and thought-processes back slightly hunched over eyes to the ground seeing earth, stone cracks, grass, flowers bird droppings, dog's as well dotting the slick pavement of repetition I occasionally look up at the sound of honks and horns, my feet the usual sound slap slapping the pavement of repetition usually my heart beats rapidly in my chest as I increase, speed on purpose, wanting the rush the kick, to feel alive and afloat amongst a sea of repetition Day in and day out I walk briskly from my lair to my sweat- shop of endless shelving the same each day except when minuet differences occur to add layers of perceptions the unexpected to the expected Although the path may not change the seasons in their serenity certaintly do spring to summer fall to winter the breath seen by all on the day I saw you standing there alone and afraid the bushes, your neighbors had the thin coating of a finished car covered by dew and frost they did not change and in their immunity mocked your transformation I realized that I never took notice of you day out and day in always looking never stopping to see such a friendly face you changed from your puffed up green to a blood red your dying friend! or so it seemed your veins protruding out of star-shaped leaves you stood there friend different and changed no longer content with the past life you lead the caterpillar your mentor you cocooned your inner voice and thoughts in a tangled web of masks the greenery such an expectation to the unexpected that you blended in, disappeared amongst all of the clones of leaves of grass. Yet here you are standing tall and unique, yourself changed for the better. No longer going with the natural order of things. I passed you again, now looking up past the pavement of repetition and saw you changed yet again your stars no longer hanging and flowing blood-red energy of life NO they were brown and puke-green, dried except when wet by morning dew and rain fallen to the ground dead and you my friend your branches old and shriveled appeared old and dead. What has happened friend you look ill, sick done in.