Every morning is like the one before,
Whether endless granite clouds fill the sky,
Or the flaming sun scorches the soil.
Last night�s prayers are never answered.
In tears they are spoken to unhearing ears;
In tears they are forgotten until bed once again.
Toiling perpetually where nothing is real,
I find myself in a book my own hand inscribes;
From the outside, I am looking in.
Such pain have I forgotten,
That I once thought it could never be again.
Pain is the everlasting reminder of my past.
Attempt and fail is the way of the dream,
An endless cycle of vicious ruthlessness,
A damnation into madness.
Utter calm and indifference greet each new day.
Anger builds for but a moment,
Releasing its strangling grip at night.
With neither cause to live nor to die,
We cross the planes of time, eyes glazed,
Staring forever into the darkness we will never know.
-3/28/00
Time Away from Class
-3/31/00
Multihued green tiles speckle the floor,
While frosted gray squares line the basin's bottom.
Sea foam tiles cover the walls to shoulder height,
Being overtaken by discolored white plaster,
Embracing occasional cracks and lumps.
All angles and imperfect precision,
The only gentle curves belong to the sink,
Its white ceramic bowl a simple oval.
Cold glittering light reflected from the mirror
Assaults my eyes with cathode rays,
While the large oaken door, slightly open,
Lets in the gentle spring breeze.
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