like a flower blooming in the breeze,
with gently swaying reeds, moving in and
out of the haze before...eyes sunken in the
head that blur as people pass by.
I sat in the grass on the Church's holy ground,
singing a blasphemous song that recklessly
departed from my soul, about sex
and disco propaganda that stole
my mind back in time...to an era
that perhaps would have explained a little
more about life. But over it is, has been...
and it only grows more so...each year,
each decade...And I sat beneath the sacred
Tree, watching blindly, without observing as
curious people passed me by, muttering
"...high school dropout..." beneath their breath,
a teacher shaking his head in my direction...
She's a drifting seed on the wind, with
no place for her roots to drink in, no ground
that will hold her...just drifting through trafic
a worthless face colored with make-up like
a tattered ragdoll thats been thrown out in
the trash. Pausing a moment, her eyes
focused in on some boys across the street,
playing with cars...laughter...memories...
Then she's falling back, her weightless body
onto the grass while her mind steers her
down another path, to the train tracks and
a gentle hand...where are you now...?