Mantra

Build those castles
Will them into existence
Carve your future with thought
Master your reality
With positivity
Know that everything you need to know
Lies in the depths of your spirit
Let your imagination soar above the pettiness of doubt
There is only beauty and happiness in your future
Live them now
And dream
Never forget to dream

In traffic

Bumper to bumper madness
We sit in limbo daily
Caught in our own stagnation
The trees sway in winds of pollution
Tree huggers decry the lack of shame
The earth's pain
The poor do not have the liberty of conservationist thinking
The rest of us do not see beyond our first meeting or our next pay cheque
Imagine all the people
Peacefully proclaiming their independence
Eradicating profanity

Laughing gas

He laughs hysterically
The days and endless cacophony of the mundane
Recycled experiences
Never ending repetition
The spark has been lost
And all that keeps him going
Are the strains of insanity

He sits in traffic
Bumper to bumper
Zombie to zombie
The same faces stare off into the distance
Going half crazy with the pain of it all

All he has is 'one day'
One day things will be better
One day it will all make sense
One day his dreams shall become
One day his laughter will come from the gut, the heart
One day

He laughs at the hopelessness
He laughs one day

meaningless words

these words
tug and pull
tickle and taunt
clog the pen's artery
get caught in my throat
stuck on the tip of my tongue

these words
tease and mislead
evoke hollow dreams
speak mindless truth
linger in the minds of the uncouth
but never grace me with the simplicity of my truth

these words
hide in the shadows
daring me to seek them out
to enter the unknown
to overcome the fear

these words
drag my soul kicking and screaming onto the page
cackling and laughing at my feeble resistance

these words mirror my reflection
magnify my inadequacies
and yet, somehow, give me hope

these words are all i have

Words

Do we speak for the voiceless
With our coated and cloaked, hollow words?
Do we speak for the downtrodden
Who feel the weight of humanity on their throats?
Do we speak for the children
Not yet able to form words
Trying to make themselves heard through gurgles and burps?
Do we speak for humanity itself
On a treadmill to extinction
Repeating histories lessons blindly
Unwilling to take responsibility for the actions of a few?

Who do we speak for?

Are the we the seers and seekers
The dreamers and believers
Who have the answers to the unspoken questions?

Do we somehow see into the soul of truth
And paint its mirror-image with our words?

If not, then who speaks for them?
If so, who speaks for us?