The Cost of Living
We skipped stones
across the pools of our mind,
where they hesitated for a moment
before deciding to plunge
down into the seamless depths,
leaving only abject stillness behind,
for you see the waters
were viscous,
oil stained,
gathering pollutants
over time.
No longer clear pools,
of a former youthful fount,
once pristine, untouched
yet quivering in eager anticipation
with every disturbance,
alive, awake, serene,
what remains instead
are the remnants
of our regrets.
While at unsuspecting
moments when caught
in just the right light
the colors are beautiful
and take our breath away
leaving us awestruck at the possibility,
that so much filth and grime
can give birth to the sublime,
in our heart of hearts,
we know all too well
the price that is paid
for that kind of beauty,
it is unnatural,
and if we are not careful,
merciless will it smother us.
So we choose to remain
just upon the very outskirts
watching from afar,
the ghost of our lives,
an all the debris we have left behind,
and we know that the true cost
of living is that you can never
walk out of it with your
soul still clean,
no matter how much you pray
it will only turn the slate
a shade of gray.