sentimental desperation

Sentimental Desperation

I’m an interloper to everyday life, born into a forgotten neighborhood lying on the other side of rusty tracks.

I’m among you standing toed to your metal gates, gazing up at life no longer expanding into possibilities. You know nothing of my existence, the possibility of me never intrudes into your consciousness.

Clanking metals resonate daily as men and women forging earth into blocks waiting for you to decide. Your hero’s and saints mean nothing to me, your weathered worship fallow of meaning, bereft of redemption.

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Wrap Up

In the midst of everything I was ignored. Daily I’d stand hand extended, the crowds hustling past shunning connection proffering false intimacy. Sullen and rejected I watched time accelerate, crowds thin and pass me by.

My life never amounted to anything, it was a momentary swirl of occurrence with me standing alone upon high cliffs wind in my hair watching sunrises and sunsets while breathing in infinite possibilities but never plunging into the abyss of those possibilities. What was it about about mortality I didn’t understand.

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