Tin Top

4am on the 4th of July
Beating back the sleep I need
with send-offs and hammer-ons
Brushing the freeway’s hand with solid ground
Lulling my motionless limbs ever closer to sleep,
as though I may only dream of fireworks
Think I’m just tired of waiting
while time keeps passing
Questioning my unquestionably questionable faith
Or more imploring why it has gone
But today’s world makes belief its own miracle
Miraculous it would be to not see
what so commonly isn’t;
which is (in my opinion) that the rich believe in gods
to elude the unaccredited luck
which spangled their fortune
The poor believe because it’s all they can do
as time keeps passing
Drinking again, bad habits returned
Illegal? Of course
But that’s the beauty of freedom
A minor... I’m a criminal
awaiting threats that bring on the will to react;
to find a fraction of dignity,
and put the right wrongs behind bars
But time just keeps passing
Broken bridges, pink carnations
Lifting the gray day up to catch tears
and freeze the moment, as everything freezes
once and (as always) for all
Because death is a carnival ride
whose fleeting turn is someday mandated;
admission paid in the rain
And the antique look of the elderly remains,
despite the ever-evolving world
Time: passing
There are people who read newspapers
just to see who died,
as winter walks through small town streets;
quietly cold
below partly starry skies
Until the papers read without them,
about them;
old news that never made headlines
Yet time just keeps on passing

Poetry from Nevermore Forevermore by Shane Windham
E-book and paperback now on Amazon.com

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