weakness

Walking on shards of broken glass;
A blanket that stretches out forever
beneath my feet.

The sun won't melt me with its heat
though I perceive its light.
It burns and yet this seems a most
welcomed sensation.

I smell pot and spring and hear
Voices of children.
Water runs below in a man-constructed canal.

A slight breeze.
A stranger sitting on the wooden bench lateral to mine on the left hand side.

Near silence now as the breeze increases in intensity.
Meanwhile,
The light of the sun decreases.
Yelling in the distance, coming from behind,
Suddenly.

The flip of a page, turned.
The scream loudens, mingled
with another sound: shallow laugther.

My blanket of broken glass shards
has transformed itself into a jungle.

Not a tropical one, mind you, but
consisting of concrete and steel.

Bars perpendicular and closed gates are
Creating a great barrier.

A prison. Almost 2 post meridiem.

The Tower bells will soon chime;
A type of knell to this desolate soul,
in need of a physical touch.

"What do you want? What are you looking for?"
Inaudible Whisper disrupts my train of thought.
"Something real..." is my heart's silent reply.

A visceral growl interrupts my musings;
the hunger pangs of the flesh
I've become almost adept at ignoring.
Annoyance at most.

A cigarette lit.
The smell invades my constricted world
Bringing with it a soothing measure of comfort.

There they are!
The bells announcing the dismal passing...
of a plane overhead?

A two-tone flag waves triumphant.
One colour: that of surrender.
The other: symbolic of sacrifice.
The price paid for peace.
Peace of mind.

A piece of my mind,
shared, divided, added up again,
and equaling nothing
in the end.