Roof


From my roof, you can see all of my town
The river to the west, glistens gold as the sun goes down
My lips form into a grimace, but soul still furrowed frowns
From my roof, you can see all of my town
As horizons rise to meet the eye
And the westward furnaces help me tell time
A familiar hue touches the sky
I refuse to be pinned, submitted or held down
From my roof, you can see all of my town
What doctor do you go to
When you want to burn it all to the ground
And hold more dear fresh mountain air
Than any professional courtesy hand me downs
Or sage advice on how not to be a clown
Let mind fester and will crush out
From my roof, you can see all of my town
So that when the truth is stopped mid-flight
And forced to come home to a bed of painted lies
Of pragmatic semantics, moderation and a lack of surprise
Chastised for denying that such is life
From my roof, you can see all of my town
If a man's reach should not his grasp exceed
And hindsight fails to find leads
I turn to more fickle sights
Of starlight dreams that have shied
From the light of a mediocre sky
For them I rant, I rave and shout
Onto pages from a notebook
I have not found
Let nothing in to put nothing out
From my roof, you can see all of my town

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Um this poem is about ennui