Same day

The same way

The same voices

Driven the same

Narrative

Over and over

While we all just keep

Getting

Older

Boil water

And stay away

From the water dripping

From the drain

The rains came

Washed in the sediments

Now water-filled jugs

Is the sentence

What holds me down

Yesterday

Is today’s fuel

Giving me what I need

To begin anew

Lifting me up

Rather than making me blue

There is a place

Where the palms

Sway sweet and soft

When the air is timid

And easy

Concrete jungle

With all-day breezes

Palms trees bring it

That sense of calm

On the leaves

Of a palm

Crisis of numbers

Crisis of names

Fumbled the words

Distracted and tame

How to recover from

A case of public doubt

Lean back

Don’t scream and shout

Back to the well-written word

Artistry of presentation

One can return

With no hesitation

Who is that

That can sway the seas

Open up

Opportunities

Given graces from descendants

The money talks and walks

Where there once was hope

Is now lost

Fall over a broken note

All over the embers of hope

Into the ashes of a once known fire

Where put the remains

Of a disruptive liar

When the Cherry blossoms bloom

Up into the sky around the capital

A new season sets upon

Weary souls

Holding hope for the priority

Capital

To push through the papers

And represent the people

From whom they are selected

And they owe all

Without them

They never would have been elected

Zero

Gone

Done

Finished

Sold Out

Depleted

Purchased

Denied

Refused

Destroyed

Futile

Departed

Final

From the bed

To the kitchen

Coffee hand ground

Through the waterfalls

Into a cup bound

Freshly filling the edges

With a glass of refreshment

A morning migration

To day

From sleep