troubled souls
losing claim to fame
disappeared to hinterlands
nothing will be same
weary old folks fold their hands
others rearrange their plans
words too many say
imperfect in every way
stealing light from day
debts, too numerous to pay
selling dreams which won't convey
not what we came for
low dark clouds approaching fast
home with no front door
holding on to what has passed
restless dreams soon fill our glass
once alive and whole
now fully marginalized
laughter becomes droll
not what the experts advised
nothing comes as advertised
blown in with the storm
teaches those lessons wind knows
promises deform
not even gods can oppose
status quo soon turns and goes
secret dreams time stole
can produce a troubled soul
half but not a whole
but a name where fingers scroll
another for whom bells toll
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