"common"
When they ask if you're okay,
of course, you say you're fine,
not even noticing
the liquid building
in your eyes.
You walk away
and wearily
with fatigue,
get on with it.
But, get on
what what?
If the band,
was
really
gonna have happened,
we need the one
with compassion,
and natural
glowing
in her eyes.
The polka dots & the popping
of plastic delights,
dares to dance with acid
in our flowing limbs,
the repetitive
of their morning walking
to their death,
while we exhilarate
with heath
and breath.
Do we really care,
if we're climbing
mountains
of their corporate
attire
and lack
of common sense?
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