The landscape of the city
Changing over time
What has come up
And gone down
When the working line
Falls
How there are very few
That rise over the years
It seems I can
Recall more who have lost
Then won
And why
Why is this the way
The landscape of the USA
The crimson orange sun
Beams shyly
From behind the winter clouds
As the sun begins its daily
Journey
Around
As we spin here on earth
Taking it all in
The burning ball of fire
Warms us just a little
In the depths of winter
Cold
The night wasn’t as
Distant
As a far off warning
The cold was rather
Set in it’s way
Approached
By the lowest digits
To accept the easy pay
So the health of the lungs
Can be only held so long
For the blistering cold
Is coming along
The blue of the winter time
Has rest its head on the
Weary earth
Blooming the snow and wind
That covers the ground
From head to toe
From the season of fall
Bursts the icicle season
Falling in the snow piles
On the ground below
Waiting for the sun to glow
Over the shimmer of fresh
Fallen
Snow
The quintessential
Excuse
To avoid the words
That could resound
In the nature of the ear
Make sense of the confusion
The highest of honors
Takes the back seat
These days
For other types of
Pursuits
Both silly and unusual
So I hold hope
For a solid
Return
Over time
Refined
From the sand in the
Glass
Falling through
To the other side
Try to define
The sagacious
Mind
Over the years
As wisdom imparts
It’s vital words
Upon the mind
A Cup of Songwriting 