Missing

A creature born with out a home

A man who sleeps upon a stone

Missing every piece of bread

Living life but looking dead

His head bowed low before its time

Humbled, without reason or rhyme

The pattern of the ticking clock

Sometimes, he wishes his would stop

What brought him here?

Is he to blame? 

In what way

will his Demon’s tame?

Why was he left here to rot?

Maybe the victim of some plot?

Is he not human?

Like you -- or me

How does he die, when people see?

I saw him fall the other day

I reached out but he deplored

“I can make it” “walk on by”

“ just like you did the times before”

What made me bend and change my way?

What made me look and my time, pay?

Is there more to life than this

I live my life but “LIFE” I miss

Is my path - for me alone?

Do I see people or just the drone?

Slave to things - I think, make me free

But in the end, they just own me!!!

My Rush To Do

Tasks To Complete

When their done

They just deplete

I miss the things that mean the most

Love people much

 and

let --- “things” ----go