let winds fingers ramble through the tangle
my hair wild
and the leaves whispering in their urgent hiss
I can feel the gravity in my legs the
uneven brickwork and sunbleached blacktop

I push myself forward
for going back is like stepping
into the cool shadowdream

where I'm neither awake
nor concious

I remember the brown tea waters
of the creek always alive
always moving under the sweet
bridge the shaded tree limbed
sanctuary of respite

The cost of existing is high
Prompting me to cry
No matter how hard I try
I can’t discern, my way in life

Spiraling prices place me in a fix
Per buyers spending picks
Low wages mainly a trick
To craft the minority rich

Thus creating majority poor
Per capita distinction core

With those big brown eyes
and strawberry fired hair
sweet innocence as on
a summer's day fair

You visit grandma and grandpa
with lee luke and charlotte
brothers and sister you play
have such a wonderful day

You all go play hide and go seek
all turns dark all so bleak
in a blink of an eye
you are taken away
we cannot sleep
we only weep

The dialogue of silence
resembles theatre of the absurd.
He’s waiting for Godot -
She dare not utter a word.

He speaks with disdain,
his body language concurs,
she turns away trembing -
“communication”
is just another word.

The wanton isolation
of not being heard.
They loved once
before they recognised the abyss,
before they touched the void.

Anxiety and anguish
Co-joined protagonists
In a play called Folie a deux
Zeitgeist the grim backdrop
To the greyness they’ve found.