by Bradley W Jarvis
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Rated "G" by the Author.
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The view from a life of artificiality.
Within my room, I do see
Reflections of reality.
Reminders of what was out there,
In the ground and sea and air.
Starfish, rocks, leafs and bugs;
And scenes of trees on coffee mugs.
They all adorn my sacred room,
Ghosts of greatness, not of doom.
While through my window, I can see
Blocks of artificiality.
Houses rise to block my view
They stole the land from that which grew.
But I am just as much to blame;
My sacred room is just the same.
It takes up space that once was real;
Replaced with stone and glass and steel.
These corpses gathered far and wide
Remind me of the other side;
Beyond the walls, beyond the pain,
Where life is pure, the soul unstained.