This City Speaks
Faces void all passing by
open eyed yet emptied
like flashes of a vacancy sign
blank stares like orphans pitied
Caught in time
no plans to sketch
just colored pencils
with broken tips
Only the artist's see
painting joy on canvas
as if an apology
for selling a feeling - to what the living should be free
This city speaks of sunsets passed
and lakes that serve as portraits hung
rush for a weekdays check to cash
while natures gift remains outrun
For me I'd rather fish the sea
a humbled walk along the beach
fall upon a stack of leaves
but freeways and buildings my peace has breached
In love with a life of simple pleasures
unhurried by the next place to go
where hospitality is still the measure
not a life that's put on like a show
Where did all the soft eyes go
the patriots passion the pride
when did this world spin out of control
and kindness become something to hide?
To each his own the saying goes
but what of love thy neighbor?
When abnegation is no longer chose
it's no wonder isolation be favored
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