A Message For Reason

I walk to class 

In a place looking the same.

Listen to birds

That have known my name.

Bitter cold winter,

It's the state, it's the season.

Why not different?

Like the place that she's in?

Lonely, there's darkness

I want to move out.

A ticket to Rome,

To find me a route.

Air and the temperature

Don't define this place

But a fellow dear greeting

With a plain cheerful face

Oh darkness it does not

Sit and drink tea,

Only leaves and then after,

Teaches me to not flee.

I love this place, 

It's not foreign, it's home,

It's not made by temperature,

But love, not from Rome.

I can travel far,

And learn differences from here,

But here is my stay,

And here is my dear.

The dear is not ground,

It is not material outside,

It's the faces seeking more,

And in the shadows they hide.

Like me too, I am gone,

Hiding of shameful arrays.

Though that is my flesh,

My reason to stay.

He says yes, you shall,

But don't inherit the earth,

Come cast it on me,

And seek others in hurt.

Bless all thy dear children,

In thy tender care,

And reach out and follow,

And bring love that is rare.

The Love Drug

Calling it now a sarcastic tone,

Under dark privileges met, and set alone.

Collecting thoughts that scar the sky,

And detect a crimson stain and lie.

Whipped to lashing and crying to none,

Bitten in wounds so small, so done.

From two to three, then following through,

A tired slum collects the chew.

A long thought out sentence ravages on,

Then one becomes two and so on and on.

Nevertheless to beat up an old unknown pal,

Strictly a promise set by gruesome locale.

Garden by rose bush in jargon of grey,

A lively hotel room begs visitors to stay.

Chandeliers stretch back, glistening quietly,

In glance of who speaks, ever so politely.

A mimic in time cannot ever tell,

If the past produces currents to put out to sell.

Waiting to Decorate

I decided this may be what my room will look like next year.  My interior design skills decided to kick in when I started cutting up pieces of magazines. The green at the bottom is a rug.