As I stare out into the
masses of people cladded in
black with their pearly white skin,
I ponder as my mind slips into
a world of half a sleep but I remain
still awake.

I see the world as a romantic possibly
could, as I down another beer.
Or maybe I'm just to tired
to consider the fact that
I should be asleep by now.

I watch the beautiful dark
butterflies hover around
those who claim to be
the darkest flame in the world.
I see their motherly touch rewarded
with their flaming touch.

I stare out in hope or maybe
it is the wonder that maybe I won't
go home alone tonight.
I stare out to find the one who
has my heart in her small
fingers.

Such fragile small and trite thing
the heart is in our life.
Nothing special but a mystical
thing we have given it power to control
our destiny.

Why is it that every night I see
if I could find the bearer of my
mystical, fragile, and trite emotional belief.
And yet when I find her I am always
alone even in her arms even in the
company of my closet friends.

As I stare out into the night
with the smoke that surrounds my
sense and the desire to just go
home and call it a night.
I stand here like a fool in
a world full of dark shadows and
blue eyes and pasty white skin.

07/29/2003

Posted on 07/29/2003
Copyright © 2024 Christopher Shin