Homeless Drumbeat

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It’s intrinsic,

Chaotically living life in transit,

Dystopian swing shift watch the hours count down is all you can manage.

A metronome rhythm rattling then clicking the only sound.

Grains sliding then slipping,

Crumbling, dividing then quickening.

Grit in the eyes where bleary sand sticks,

Blending euphoria to exhaustion is one nasty mix.

Sure–change glued in amber,

Stuck like a beetle or bug,

Mosquito frozen solid while filled up on blood.

That locus of focus shifted heavily to stone,

Life essence trapped then mired,

In the middle of all while forever alone.

Change the Future

Agents of Change

Beguiled and lost in the haze of one life,

Still losing out on what could salvage that strife,

Put meaning and purpose behind all the pain,

Gather the crazy to shed light on the game,

For all the nights spent on streets,

Walking and stomping amuck.

Banging head against wall for the sound of a thud,

Claiming bad luck.

If I had to find solace in all of the facts,

Like the door once chopped down as a kid with an axe,

It would be to show vision of future not so bleak in design,

Make windowless posters and let bleed out my mind,

To a world created unsorrowful, joyous and free,

Pleasure found in success is where I’d seek to be.

I’d be pleasant and loving,

Caring and nurturing,

Devoted and faithful,

Consistent and capable.

Brilliantly damaged with an uncrafted mind,

Open to new thoughts,

Carefree instead of careless with my time.

I’d be playful and cheery,

Opulent in my charity,

Give all with sincerity,

Never expect in return,

I’d find that blistering heat of our sun to which I once yearned.

There’d be lessons with smiles,

Understanding and patience for miles.

I’d recognize your pain that I felt as a child,

Never more would I feel like I was trapped in a zoo.

The display would be dismantled,

Daily shit show would be cancelled,

Put the guardrails away,

Be approachable, jokable and laughing while at play.

I’d tell a story that said all the mistakes clear and loud,

Put nothing out there afloat on pink cloud.

Pride in voice to name myself a survivor,

Through chance and luck as much as MacGyver.

Explore the recesses of why I did what and how it had to have changed,

Look never for excuses, but reasons to grow, heal, and set aflame,

-a desire for beauty to cross ‘cross the world,

Melt away shame for my broken child be they me,

Boy or girl.

Stand owning my personal legend of existence,

Know that at the end of my days,

I made something more than a negative difference.