The construct of our time
Only love is on the mind
A fearful path that shrouds my kind
Leaves a loner tears to cry
Tensions rise as stars do shine
A blackened fog he lies upended
Of woeful blows tends to be untended
Under the blink of nights resigned
“Why me?” He asks within a dream
A pointless line his much do seem
All he wills, a chance to keep her
For he’s a dreamer, not our seeker
Poorer men lose their prime
No playful fun, no rule of thumb
By their design
And how it made their life so benign
What made a fool, a fool to them?
A learning curve when they were ten
Taught mock and jeer they now so fear
An unfair system, an unfair victim
Troubled by the lights surmised
Not a glow that he must hide
With now a flicker he sees her eyes
But are they her’s or those he tried
To throw away, to feel just fine
Obscure a gaze that once was high
Becomes an object, to him a crime
A whirlwind spectre that drove him blind
Meant that she would not be mine
A feeling cruel, yet not demise
For birds still fly, so you do not
Bunkered in the ground, you may just rot
Though, peer out,
Why not say “Hi”