Yesterday, I woke up to an alarm,
of course, I needed to be somewhere soon,
until I arrived at the location,
anxiety undid the good with harm,
rest assured, I did arrive there on time,
even though it was in the afternoon,
obviously, it was my vocation,
not just to care but to worry as well.
Take the bus or the El train, it's no crime,
however you look at it, being poor,
except people take exception to trash.
Reservations against pain and squalor
indeed move people like a lightning flash,
gripped by that morbid phantom in a cell,
hovering in their brain to fear the sight
twisting poverty in with their disgust.
Perhaps you are above all that, or caught
as the average person lacking the light
to know better but to act otherwise,
human frailty, we each possess, as trust
orbits within circles, battles hard-fought,
rich with family and friends, colleagues and dates.
Ask yourself if you wake up just to rise,
relatively early from bed to catch
eastern sunlight creeping across the sky.
Yesterday, I woke up as if to scratch
only the surface of the real, to cry
under the covers, these character traits
only reflect the ego and my mind,
nothing and no one no longer made sense.
To step into the river of my thoughts,
hundreds of people were waiting to find
entrance to nirvana if I could see
right through the veil of illusion, a fence,
immense in scope, along the border, rots,
given the lack of care, witnessed for years,
humbled by neglect, marked with graffiti
to tag an ephemeral space by name.
Phantoms of my past continue to haunt
aspects of myself, hidden, full of shame,
terrified by my past, years I was gaunt,
helpless, without a clue, and full of tears.
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