I am tired of the city
its dead stones, gray fingers
clutching at chunks of life-less life that
limp endless streets leading nowhere.

Even trees lined up like guardian
sentinels with bowed heads
grieve and weep their pity fading the green.
With only a small stretch of sky
open for business, the blue
searches an understandable language
for new warming.

The melody staining the leaves
paints a new costume,there is no rest in silence
all are mindless of the call of love
without which, its brother against brother
sister against sister and all the words in the color 'peace"
however well spoken,like 'truth'
has lost all meaning.

The world is full of broken men/women
and children on the road to oblivion, the words
peace/love a forgotten language
awaits resurrection,
*