Wednesday, March 6, 2013

the walker in the lost city

I ate the rotting bread
And I walked the burning streets
Where the wind was dead
And dogs drowsed at my feet

But all my pain meant nothing
To the people who stared at me
Was I some kind of king?
Or just someone who walked funny?

I said my hellos to the old men
Who grunted their responses
Old women looked disapprovingly
As I counted all my chances

Would I get out of this place alive
Would I walk these streets forever
Would I even survive?
Would I end up dumb or clever?

In circles I walk
In puzzles I talk
With no meaning or sense
Just confidence 


No comments:

Post a Comment