Poetry Night

Beat the concrete,
soles of single pairs of feet
breathing dust as the city sleeps.
The city is a half-dreaming dragon,
brightly colored,
danger and beauty,
glistening in glass and brick.
Stone and steel amidst
green parks,
or are they tiny cracks of hope
blooming in the dark?

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The Lost

We are lost.
We don’t know what we’re about,
where we’re going,
how to get there.
What is life?
Each has their own definition.
That’s not right,
not a bit. Not one ounce
of truth in each to their own.
Mass depression is the result of
that mentality.
Who needs that?
Not I, not you, not they.
We need each other, like flowers need the sun.
We are one.