Peculiar, really, you know, strange.
Meticulous ants that carry dinner on their backs
Yet I am uncertain of what this all means,
at least to me, to others? No one cares anyway.
A playing child falls and scraps a knee, but to no alarm, this is only the first
Prayers ascend to heaven in a multitude of voices, but there is no confusion,
for all is heard and duly noted
Weeping and jubilation, can they be present at the same juncture, well no matter, it happens,
it always does
Terror-stricken, and running with all abandonment of mind, a constant reminder,
for those who listen
Crowded streets, lonely souls drift, been that a way for, well forever
The prey, the predator, nature as the unforgiving gavel of justice, and it will be complete
Lips press tightly, arms reassure with candor and care, they too shall pass, but so shall you
Above me the light changes red, green, yellow, and red again