This is another long poem, sorry. I sometimes get carried away once in the zone…
I watch as the clouds roll silent across my view
They seem sad sometimes
Like myself
They drift endlessly
Like myself
With a meaning without meaning
A purpose
Whatever that may be
Sometimes I sit on the roof and wonder
I try to think of what purpose may be
I try to find the real me inside the shell I have created
From country to county
From town to town
I always catch a glimpse of the man
Going around the corner
Merging with the crowd
Building a mold
Like a butterfly within a cocoon
Soft music slips silent across the rooftop
Drifting with the smoke from the chimneys
Down into the valley of the ignorant below
Down into the drama of individual plight
Down into the sorrow and the hope
They bathe in the same tub
Mixing their dirt
Both leaving dirty towels for someone else to pick up
Little specks of smoke linger on the shingles
Not wanting to travel with the rest of the sheep
The lemmings
Like I
I feel like the black sheep within a family where I am the only child
Forever fighting to find the others I had lost
Whether they exist or not
The missing piece to my soul
My phantom
My Opera
Creating my masterpiece for none to see
Under the mask that hides the horrors within
Trying to become the one thing I could look at in the mirror
When morning comes
Dreaming of flying
Arms stretched wide
Feeling the cold air as it freezes my lungs
Watching the sun as it rises to greet another new day
The orange turning to red
Embracing the blue
As one by one the stars vanish
Like hope
In child’s room
When their father comes home drunk
After the night before
When promises were sworn
When words were spoken that said
No more drinking
Things are going to change
Shouting and breaking glass
Echoing into the rising sun
As sirens scream their mantra
Telling the tale of some poor bastard
More worse off than you
Let loose the dogs of war
Upon the man next door
Let loose your wrath
While your father beats your mother
The domino effect
It affects all
It seems
Slipping through the clouds
Watching the green hills roll
We always think of the country
Be it rolling green hills or beautiful mountain tops
Where only tranquility can be found
We so truly are the fools
To think that a place creates the moment
It is the person
The people
They create the moment
Within the confines of the place
Within the confines of the shell
The soul
Such a shallow thing
Is the soul
So easy to break
So easy to sell
Like old china on Ebay
Sitting on the roof I watch as people go by
You know
No one ever looks up anymore
When I was young I stood
Staring up into the sky
As an adult I stand
Staring up into the sky
Staring into something
Sitting on the roof I wonder
Just what that something is
As the world goes to hell I always wonder
I’m no Saint
I litter
Shout at those I proclaim to love
I have dove into the deep end of hypocrisy
Coming up smelling of roses
I am human after all
Yet how many care
At the end of the day
How many truly give a shit
For the actions throughout their lives
How many people at the end of the day sit on a roof
Wondering what will happen to the strings of smoke
Painfully clutching to the shingles
Wondering what happens to those people
That never looks up
To those that live within those rolling green hills
So filled with the same hate and love
As that child confined to the city
The same lost love drifts endlessly
The same Evil lurks in the dark alleyways
Waiting for the foolish or the lost
Location has nothing to do with misery
Nor happiness
We create our world
Our worlds
We create that which we wish to see
We let the drunk beat us
The greedy steal from us
The foolish be used by us
We are no better than those we persecute
Unless we sit on the roof
Unless we watch the sun as it rises
As it sets
Unless we understand our reason for living
Without it we are nothing
A shell
Molded from the faceless souls
As we merge with the crowd
To create the shell we hide in every day
My words go around in a circle
An end without end
A meaning without a meaning
In reality I could go on forever
Yet why should I?
When this edge invites so sweet
The drop so deep
The bottom far from view
They say you pass out before you hit the ground
I love that
Like you could ever ask someone that did it
It’s a fail-safe comment that could never be questioned
Like faith
Never question a person’s faith
It’s a road to nowhere
Like the Crusades
Never a thing accomplished
In the name of Gods
Except for death
The domino effect
The one thing that is a given
We can hide from the taxman
We can move
Death
Is a given
Like war
We are human after all
The battle for Supremacy
It’s a given
Like a lie to your child
No matter how small
One day you shall do it
The foundation shall crack
Human nature
Like a relative that can’t keep their hands to themselves
A promise kept
A hatred born
Sitting on the roof
The clouds pass silently by
Like they shall long after I am gone
As they have to so many others
Whose families have long forgotten them
Dust in the ground
Some faceless figure in a picture
That fought in some war or another
Their picture
Found under a bed
Like the rotting corpse
Dying along with their Headstone
Surrounded by the long grass rolling over the hills
Down into valley of a peaceful town
A town on a postcard
Stuck to the fridge
In a home of a child dying from the inside out
Her father shouting pointless nothings
As empty beer bottles scatter to the four winds
The only thing keeping her alive
The rolling green hills
Of the town she hopes one day she would live
Be a part of
To have some meaning
She stares at it while her mother pleads for quiet
She stares at it as he father passes out
One thought on her mind
Peace
Tranquility
Funny what we think peace really is
Sad that we think tranquility is something a world could obtain
Without a lobotomy
Sitting on the roof I wish I could cry
Something I haven’t done properly for many years
Never sure why
My father maybe
So instead I stare at the clouds
At the colors the sun makes through the clouds
At the people passing by unawares
Uncaring maybe
I was never sure which was what
So thin the veil between the two
Somewhere in the distance I listen to the child
As she decides enough is enough
Somewhere a siren screams
As a man dies
Somewhere a mother creates a little white lie
A given
A mother’s choice
Little white lies don’t matter
Just a few words
Nothing more
To create something so much better
Sitting on the roof
I feel no sorrow as his body is removed
I like every other
Become the hypocrite
As green hills beckon
Sitting on my roof like a watcher
A fool
A figure to forget
Like her father
A faceless figure
In a crowd
Becoming one
With the thing you fear the most
The one reason
I sit on a roof
The one place
Where no one ever looks up
Like the rolling green hills
A distant dream
A hope