My own
Eyes
Have seen
Opportunity
Have seen struggle
Tough times
Amidst the good
A mixed bag
Not always what I wanted
But what it should
Be
My own
Eyes
Have seen
Opportunity
Have seen struggle
Tough times
Amidst the good
A mixed bag
Not always what I wanted
But what it should
Be
Eternity edges
On scaffolding ledges
Of high rises
Lifted and forgotten
Rolled up sleeves
And highly uncommon
Shadow roll
Over the edges
Of crisp white walls
Windows ajar
With the sound of rumbling
Cars
Lame lights burn
Incandescent glow
On the face of a man
In a restraint
Alone
Around him the burning glow
Of a personal computers
Impersonal glare
With not one care
Religion in sound bite form
Looses something
From the depth
Of a northern light
To the quick selling
Famine
Plight
Not even good
Or alright
Express religion
In its cheapest form
Saving graces
Running all over the human
Race
From one to another
Just a word can redeem
What was once lost
But now back
In seen
On the town
Their is a place
To go
When the world grows
Weary in your eyes
When the sun rises
Feelings anew
Coffee in New York City
Is the best place to remember
That life is a continuum
Of the new and old
When the world looks back
To say thanks
For all you have grown
Sick shoes
Nothing new
On the road
Out of fuel
Hold on tight
As the fever passes through
Saturday sun
Fades to a Sunday moon
All comes up
And gone too soon
Days filled with autumn fall
Upon my eyes
Not one
But all
In a parking lot
West of town
Water falls
Straight down
Into the puddle
On the ground
Into the swells all around