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