Can a person feel this
the moment the clouds gray,
we choose an ominous melody
help us find our way,
so we believe,
we step inside,
the initial stench of picked through
trash bins,
occasional alcohol
shattered against the brick,
our lives are a vulnerable
shadow in a foul smelling
haunting atmosphere.
If I might describe
the hours of my day,
I would find myself
hiding in some place
with cardboard
in that classic manner,
letting me disappear,
yet wondering who are they
outside my sound,
that would rather step on my
produce trashed cartons
instead of knowing how
eye
lost my way.
It is inside the dark recess
of my mind,
that I simply wish so often
to go away,
yet it is also
her
own fascination with love
keeps me still
eternally
wanting to
‘be’
© Scott F Savage 7/2020
the ‘b’ series
apersonaljourney - stories of love 