View From a Bed-Sit
Reciting soliloquies to lonely cobbled aisles,
a fractured mind drifts within innocence.
Remembering long forgotten memories
with a chortle, echoed against the crawling mist.
Black BMW cruises the street,
hoping to pick up a war,
and as the train grinds to a halt
another truant steps from the merry-go-round.
Taking the helter-skelter to self-destruction,
all because of liquid dreams.
With her braided hair, a class room butterfly
scratches undying love into brick red wall.
Sharing cigarettes and secrets with jealous confidantes,
while the dancing headlights of the last bus,
kiss innocence good-bye.
Fighting the dark, street light paralysis its victim,
unsure of the minefield ahead,
until sanctuary is breached again.
Sweating stones grease the passage-way
that broken hearts take for temporary release.
Too many bruises pinned upon the arms,
that fold around, to be ever mistaken for a mothers hug.
Tom cats and bitches scuttle home,
escaping false dawns light.
Hobo crawls into cardboard castle,
meths and nightmares his un-sleeping partners.
returning normality.
Postman delivers the final reminders,
as hacking shutters rise to greet the tainted day.
Braided butterfly waves good-bye
to her prince, no longer an innocent;
Yet still, somehow, pure in her uniform.
Haze seeps from the greased stones
as pseudo mother unlocks her door,
knowing the false moans are finished
and for a time she can lay down to sleep.
Torn curtain falls to hide reality,
while the sweeper cleans last nights crystal dreams.
Watched by chalk hearts proclaiming "2gether, 4ever"
Cleansed by the morning rain, street credibility returns.
Copyright © Colin Marschall | Year Posted 2006
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