[Corneac]

I feel heavy and intense,
past tense, future tense, present tense
effortless, like common sense,
cents – that fall though the holes in your pockets
roll over the pavement,
falling through the cracks,
like crack whores
who were once young and pretty,
the youth, that always hopes for more,

a dime – more time,
a quarter, I feel shorter and shorter
in your shadow, cast over noon and the pavement,
as if to beckon forth the moon,

too soon, too soon,
I’ll refill my pockets
with all the sense I have,
restitch my seams – imperfectly at best,
so once more I can stoop down,
in your shadow,

and hope that you, like noon,
will utter, with a milder glare,
one that simply asks,
what are doing down there?

[RENA HANDS]

Well there’s something wrong…Y are not more people, members of SM reading more of ur Brilliant work!?

A mixture of humor and seriousness of the conscious ever exploring, questioning ‘human mind.’ U did intend this? A telling, questioning of ‘life’s moments’ through somberness and comicalness? Well, that's some of what I've seen/read from the post.(Again, my apologies for the simple response/inquires.)

A rating once again 5 of 5.