Behind this old building:
Broken windows and boards
A small shed of beige,
And a landscape reservoir
Streetlights and lamps,
Working trucks and vans,
Behind the wheel going everywhere,
Yet going nowhere at all

The top of the chapel
Blinded by fluorescence,
Hidden by a crest of stone
Shadowed by a tower of paper and faces-
Bricks of barn and brown
Pickett fences, about fifty yards or so
A small sign with a signate, fading.
This nature is where the heart and mind flow!

With melancholic melody,
And a space of blackened design
The tones and truths of life show in the mind
Escaping the thoughts only brings soliloquy:
For how does one escape a life you create-
It’s nothing you can change, it’s just me