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Poem



Aimlessly walking across the wasteland 
of your mind,
you pick through the emotional trash 
with random intensity
	Crushed bottles of plastic thoughts;
half drank, half spilled on dozens of bridal dresses
					Crushed cans of metal demands;
hard lemonade speeches, soft wine cooler caresses
And betrothed napkins 
		blow away in the wind
Rusted pennies for your thoughts
lay strewn on the sidewalk,
as you pick through the mental dumpster 
with no sense of urgency
Scattering everywhere your intellectual debris
You find a good pair of glasses of never used honesty
Though you can see your true feelings better now,
	you still try not to think too ostensibly
Walking with a more focused purpose,
still with your eyes looking down
		and selectively looking around
For what? You’re still not quite sure
As you stroll, traversing the ruins of your mind,
you’re certain of one thing:
			Beneath every barren ground,
there’s a treasure trove
        of doubt
                                waiting to be found

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