Contemplations Of Tiny Worlds

Things become quite twisted at times

All the walls start screaming,

And my head fills with confusion and drought

All the world keeps moving, though

A tiny reminder of how small,

Each individual really is

And all my personal quandaries,

Hardly amass too much

The cops shot another black man,

A teenager kills both his parents,

The boneyards are filling,

faster than the speed of light,

The vineyards are dying,

from the heat and neglect

And yet I complain,

I dwell on my small world

It is, after all, the only one,

I have or know

And that’s enough for me

So, the sun will continue to rise up,

And the fools will continue to breed,

And the air in here is thick,

And I think I need to get away

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

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