Wednesday, February 2, 2011


Retracted skies to smoking guns,
Flames igniting upon condition,
Blossoming from a speck to a splotch
A build ups been developed, raising this moment to that designated as art,
Approximately in the time it takes a drop of blood to overtake a tub or a pool,
I found myself relegated in duty, delegated by command,
Charged with the education of those who could not comprehend,
To provide resolution through careful deliberation,
 Solving problems for all of them when the opportunity arose,
Yet, when that quotient did appear
The open mouths looked for guidance, and I lost every sense of relation,
My mind spun in countless directions, in that fleeting second
All I could think, all I was able to mutter,
Like a child falling for the first time from a bicycle he loved so,
 Or a teenager cast aside, for the company of another,
A blank slate stared at me in the mirror, producing but a solitary string of words,
Words which did not serve, did not clear or resolve,
Instead of answers, questions rose.

No comments:

Post a Comment