I sat in an open field

Pen and paper in hand,

Waiting for raw inspiration to strike.

I looked around me,where I was perched

On a little hillock  of dirt,grass and wild flowers

And I thought,what if this was once a short,burly man

Who died a horrible death,a murder most foul,

A struggle in this field,in the still of the night.

The only witness was the moon,he was left there to suffer.

I wondered if he said anything at all

If he had the strength to,of course.

I lie there on the grass on my back,sun bright

What a pretty beauty sky

The colours are nice and pretty beauty

See that there's a faint rainbow

A cloud in the shape of hands open,waiting to receive

Ants crawling on my legs

My nose running,head floating and twirling in a kaleidoscope of giddy happiness

My limbs paralyzed and a silly smile on my lips

And I'm thinking, well isn't this grand.

God is trying to tell me something and I'm below tripping because I'm high.

We sat in a circle

All together but still in our own little safe corners

Perfectly designed worlds meant to replace this one

Adjacent to me sat this girl

Arms and legs scarred,hiding them were futile,hair thin, face gaunt

Her face said it all before her low voice diffused into the room's atmosphere

Her past experiences,her mistakes.

She focused on those;the mistakes that shamed her.

I looked at her and suddenly wondered what was the purpose of me being there

The pessimistic board their seats on the past

The daring ride on the present express

The optimistic hover on anticipations of the future

There are the lost wanderers

Watching from the side as trains whiz by

Some jump on the tracks

Their legs severed,bleeding in agony

Living carcasses,waiting to be picked on

By troubles and emptiness encircling prey

Then there are the late comers who've missed their train

There's a light at the end of the tunnel

It ain't heaven but it sure is hope though.   

There are some hearts,  too small,  to carry all the pain

The hurt, too much to bare,  upon a fragile frame

So hard to face the light of day or find a place to hide

They can not bare to see themselves, afraid to come outside

                      I can hear you daddy

                      but I have let you down

Walking the streets,one  late evening

Taking in the sights and sounds,good and bad

Saw this man on a corner stump, sitting

Clothes tattered,skin dull

But his eyes,his eyes were what caught me

Bright,young for his age,all-seeing, wise

Plucking an old beat up guitar on his lap,a string missing

Humming,definitely not looking at me

Across the street,sat two lovers oblivious to the world

In the background, Grey formations that have once oozed and have dried.

I stood there listening to his song