branching

walking always with a purpose
but with nothing to say
you walk along a path
sometimes concrete, sometimes dirt
as a person walks by, you ignore them
only to wish they said hi
or glance a stare that says
"why didn't you look at me?"
and as you twinkle along to the next star
you stare at the faces in the crowd
longing to be one
longing for one

crescent moon gives you no hope
nor says anything that you will use
reiterate the doctrine and follow
in your own way
tell others you are free like the wind
and as holy as a priest
yet the roots from your soul
are dug deep in the soil of society
that lie at the brushes
near your feet

forgetting that the sun will rise tomorrow
in the east
you step once more the darkness
although you cannot see
you insist on placing yourself in
a dangerous situation
including falling in a ditch
approximately six foot deep

pray to the gods
for they are beautiful
and remember the colours
bright and unforgiving
that once splattered your palette
and gave birth to nothing more
than what anyone else did
but you glanced sideways,
then turned back and looked again
a wry smile formed on your face
and i know why
it was always your mind
that created the extravagance
and made it your own
then explained to the minions
why they should do the same

take off your sunglasses mister
see the blurry light, it flashes
and looms and resides
deep in your mind
flash back to the tiger in the street
then breathe the fumes of a new millennium
soak up our time
then spit out nothing
this one will take a bit longer
but its fun just the same