overwrite Your story

Uncomfortable here,

In the desert,
Of the neon flashing box,
And the buzzing noise it makes,
The violent clash it fakes,

Then you look a little closer,
This humble thing in the corner,
So alone and so forlorn,
Breathing presence into the light,
Transience of delight,

World through the kinks of the brick,
Growing up and out of the whirl,
Of the sheath of golden glade,
And its passengers as they sit,
Basking in the wealth of this tight knit

The mother carries her child in arms,
Bare and bruised and strong,
At the foot of the swimming eaters,
Of the daily contents of hope,
Where the stones of a village slope,

Into the walking dust,
Is the clan of back pack wearing wanderers,
Eyes open at the written rocks,
Their hands conjoined like webs,
Strung along by the thread of the plebs,

In this grassy plain and fallen color,
Whoever came along to conquer,
Dreamt of ages,
And laid a still frame in the ground,
Where the feet of many pound and pound

Then I turn to ease,
How comfortable is this seat
When we dance and see,
When we dance and see,
Beauty behind the reality