Pendragon
12-06-2007, 11:01 AM
Dirge III
I pass among you but no eye discerns the motion of my passing.
I pass the bench where old men gossip, but not one raises his head.
I buy a hot-dog from a vendor, who responds nothing to my asking—
He’s just going through the motions, like the lady feeding pigeons crumbs of bread.
There is a rhythm to the city; I am but a cog in the machine.
The others drive onward, never crossing; frantic energy.
Each lost within the concrete nightmare of what once may have been their dream,
Somewhere in that flotsam and jetsam is whatever is left of me.
I once thought that I could change the world and make it something new—
But when my little cog refused to function their way, the cog was replaced.
“We can get along just as we are—the problem lies with YOU!”
I cannot begin to describe how it feels to have your whole world erased.
I stand among a crowd of millions, yet I stand here all alone:
Passing my life among you, long after the joy of that life is gone…
Dale Harris
© 5/1/07
I pass among you but no eye discerns the motion of my passing.
I pass the bench where old men gossip, but not one raises his head.
I buy a hot-dog from a vendor, who responds nothing to my asking—
He’s just going through the motions, like the lady feeding pigeons crumbs of bread.
There is a rhythm to the city; I am but a cog in the machine.
The others drive onward, never crossing; frantic energy.
Each lost within the concrete nightmare of what once may have been their dream,
Somewhere in that flotsam and jetsam is whatever is left of me.
I once thought that I could change the world and make it something new—
But when my little cog refused to function their way, the cog was replaced.
“We can get along just as we are—the problem lies with YOU!”
I cannot begin to describe how it feels to have your whole world erased.
I stand among a crowd of millions, yet I stand here all alone:
Passing my life among you, long after the joy of that life is gone…
Dale Harris
© 5/1/07