Straddling the Edge

those of you who have settled, who have bent over backward for opportunities, do you care who dies belittled in the backroads of debility, would you take their place... no, never.. their fate is to be lost forever like ghosts, they are black stains on the face of the Host, the Devil, pay no attention to the scars, they are the signs of homelessness that mar the eye reminding of the heavy plight of mortality, the heaviest cross is baptized in the river of loss, and none would shove experience, none shun love, but if it's a stranger you don't waste a breath, and share your lungs? we look everyday and sweep the bothersome under a heavy rug, I regret these cuffs of pride placed on those without the blessing of motivation, those I too went by smiling lying hopeless and alone, these are the ghosts of Toronto, dreaming of only a miracle to protect them on empty streets, they wander with disappearing wings, no family to help them realize they still have a chance to sing, to reach for the fruit of the earth and be the kings of their destiny, I yearn for infinity, perhaps there is no kindness but death.