from a couch, speak to me

stand and deliver the sermon you were sent to serenade us with on a mountain built to rise above the pathetic-life platitudes that dribbled from hedge-fund hoes betting for a secure future full of uncertainty to those they pretend to protect

raise your voice over the echoes from the valley below full of window dressed men with barbed wire mouths hoping to take another step towards sisyphus’s demise

i’d find comfort pushing senseless stones endlessly in an effort to drive out those needing the next thing

i found a rhythm with my broom, sweeping streets littered with lost souls seeking sunrise in paper bags and garbled thoughts

who am i to declare anything

the thought alone gives weight to a world crushing Atlas, without a map we lose our way home

where will we go?

your words cease when understanding is drowned in the ocean you slipped into while realizing, no one was listening

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