The Dreary Faceless

He watches the rain that falls unwitting

Of the people who shall scatter before it. 

And he sees the people who treat their minds

To whatever may repose it. 

For he's met all kinds of shady folk

And the ones that live in kind.

He's seen the ails and woes of men

And seen the same men shine. 


But he sees himself within their place

And he hopes his hopes benign. 

For at this time he sees his place

As one he shall not resign. 

For there is no pure or divine 

Amongst our giant shuffle.

There is just intent and wants to vent

And wickedness sublime. 


And so he hops from next to next,

Any distance short or far.

And sees the men who walk or rest

And those who cower before their mar. 

But no image enough, he has found

To rest his weary self.

And so he'll walk and watch and search

For a nook to base himself. 


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Coffeepot's picture

Liked this cool write.

Liked this cool write.

Morningglory's picture

Really enjoyed reading this

Really enjoyed reading this piece of work. I like your style. 

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