Penny Stream Penny stream, flows from the dreams, of people like, you and me. Hopes and fears, wishes and tears, of people cast, throughout the years. The stream grows, as do the woes, the pennies run, through the toes. People wade, happiness fades, where is the penny that I paid? Stream to sea, now engulfs me, I won't give up, is my plea. Swim and breathe, hold on and heave, I know now, I will achieve. Coin now caught, dream now sought, here is the wish, that I bought.
Chaos Among the many possibilities that walk the streets, that work the weeks, is a storm of brains, upon which it rains, the dreams and fears of one and the same. Collective we are, individual by far, all holding on to the same dim star. Alone in a crowd, so quiet, so loud, carrying the weight of pounds and pounds. Crying inside, the feelings they hide, trying to run from where they reside. The boundries break, to unleash the lake, separate the fake, and reveal the ache.
The Wayward Moth The wayward moth flies toward the flame, feeling the heat, feeling the strain. He carries on, alone, to the glow and warmth, of his home.
Ignorant to, what lies ahead, he'll carry on until he's dead. He moves along, alone, willful fluttering, sets the tone. Caring not of the consequence, his wings they burn, his eyes they tense. He fell the fall, alone, still alive, he looks for home.
Partially blind in both his eyes, he turns his head up to the skies, to see his wings float calmly down. He picks them up, off the ground.
Sad and injured, the moth crawls on. Knowing the flight he loved is gone. Greatful for what he found, he's never alone, on the ground.
Tired Sleeplessness is nothing strange, for those who roll against the waves. "I'm tired," sighs a voice within, "Too tired to start, and too tired to end." I know I'm something, but accept I'm nothing, holding slightly, to a tattered cuffling. My wings are sagging, my dreams are dragging, staggering to grow, an unwatered sappling. Mirages abound, failure profound, pull me up, I don't wanna drown! "I can't breathe," moans the voice again. If I could just be the man I'm in. So much potential, none kinetic, it's truly pathetic. Look at me, feel me, let me shine! You see coal, the diamond's inside. The voice subsides, the tears, they cry, "Please don't let this sappling die!"
Lady Shade The shadow of the daylight, shades the lady, out of sight, from the son, who rises up, to greet her with, her morning hug.
The son, he looks, all around, wishing to find, that slight sound. He takes a glance, in the trees, through the canopy, through the leaves.
He finds a track, down the hill, leading to, a figure still. Dressed in black, and out of sight, the figure moves, into the light.
"Mom," he says, with great distraut, "Should he know?" she says in thought. "Speak to me!" he screams in tears, "Your mother's gone, has been for years!"