They’re all running around
About the next minute, the next mile
Hardly breathing, hardly daring about who and what they are or where
Totally immersed in the struggle of daily grinding, teeth to be cleaned, trains to be caught
Colds to be treated and lots and lots of
Hunger, anguish, thirst, despondency and despair in the air.
Smoked glass panes and bicycle lanes and everywhere the main idea of a rhyme we cannot fathom
How often do they stop and look
Beyond the frame, beyond the shame
Driven and pulled, pushing and lulled into a sense of being without end
Sending messages of hopelessness and senselessness and an ever-turning wheel that steals the minutes and the half-digested memories.
Sitting on the settee, trousers clinging to the knee, I tie my laces, call a truce
Forsooth they never told me it would be like this
I was one of them am one of them will be one of them and yet not
quite the same, seeing, fearing, sensing farther on the outside the emptiness surrounding our too-filled bubbles of trouble
How to get to there from here
How to think and be sincere
I would live in the moment but I don’t have time
Rushing from dime to dime and crime to sign, symbols clashing in my mind
The eye of the I of the aye of the ail
Who will have mercy on my whole?