Lost Things – Poetry
What is it to be broken?
Shattered like a glass screen?
Shattered like the tension of meaningless drama?
Shattered like everyone else’s small, small world?
Walk by a million souls
But none of them see you
The shallow squabbling of superficial woes
Once in a while, one greets you
It’s a greeting that peels your skin
Like thousands of writhing worms squelching in your stomach
Like a swarm of centipedes scurrying, suttling up and down your spine
Like the pressure of society slowly suffocating your body
What is it to leave behind the lessons learned?
To abandon all that is seemingly pointless?
To abandon ethics and morals?
To abandon both humility and shame?
Cruel at the expense of others
Cruel in the name of success
Cruel because you follow blind
Cruel at the expense of your happiness
People, alike and unalike
Fueled by green
Green jealousy and greed and stagnation
Wrapped in the hustle of the prison we placed ourselves in
Day in and day out
Clock in, clock out
World spins twenty-four seven
Clock hands rotate tick, tick, ticking away
Working for someone else’s dreams
Just another simple pawn in the game
While the time is falling, slipping away
Where, oh where did our paths diverge?
Why, oh why are we following, unconscious?
How do we find ourselves when we have fallen so far from our guiding stars?
How do I, who wanders alone, find my path back home?
Where is the place where lost things find themselves?
Where the broken are repaired?
Where the lessons are found?
Where my path is a little clearer?
Follow the lost to a place where time stops
Where reflections blink back at you from every shaded corner
To imagination, running wild, an escape from everything
Find the place where lost things go
And find yourself, you will once more.