Wednesday, March 11, 2020

Wandering Thoughts

The decaying city
Was once the praying city
An artist wanders down the deserted streets
Seeking inspiration from the loss and moss
Something dangles between his fingers
Either a blunt or a cross
Trying to rationalize the lack of god's rise (Don't tell me to capitalize)
Faith tested by the highs
Faith tested by the lies
Faith tested by love's demise
He wrote it all down with tears in his eyes
But there was strength if you believed
Resilience in the small revolution of thought
(Truth) a garbage can fire casts dark shadows behind the writers
They had the power to bring peace to the fighters
But paintings had become hated
Words even more
If it didn't fit into a telly time slot
It stayed in the attic of the mind to rot
The once bustling downtown now vacant and boarded up
The only thing left behind were the oddly placed statues
Arms outstretched
The coins collected now worthless
I see you survived..
And ask myself
Is love worth less?

dtr.


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