UPON A GRAVE OF MARIGOLDS

I dream no more of fields-

Of marigolds in the summer winds.

I see no flashes of life-

In the world around me anymore.

I take the world in its stride,

Life by the apostrophes that ensues.

Yet all my days I spend in reverie,

Of convoluted thoughts oftentimes.

I dream of vast desert lands,

Woefully flat and morose.

I do not see blossoms no more,

Nothing but the vast nothingness of life.

The air is dry and rancid,

The world turned arid and undone.

I see not people but mirages-

Of possibilities and relationships left awry.

An existence of the bare minimum,

Stripped to the necessities and the vague.

In these questionable times I wonder-

If life ever were so beautiful as we were told it’d be.

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