i want something more

going through a world of sad debris

regard quixoitic reveries of ownership: the blossoming disease of man called tenure and accretion

the ancient western treadmill of deception and derision. but i want something more. racing through a life of tragic wastage

i experience the loss of trust and innocence. the billowing cyclone of time has blown away our reasons

as we trudge like blind men forward trying to avoid collision. but i want something. more.