watching the wheels of cars that pass I look past
to the last of the light and the long shadows it casts
a window grows, captures the eye
cries out a yellow light as it passes me by
and a young shadowy figure sits in front of a box
inside a building of rock with antennas on top
nothing can stop in this land of the pain
the sane lose not knowing they were part of the game
and while the insides change the box stays the same
and the figure inside could bear anybody’s name
the memories I keep are from a time like then
I put them on paper so I could come back to them
someday, I’m hoping to close my eyes and pretend
that this crumpled up paper can be perfect again
- M.S.