Placid Tiring Tedious Day

This placid, tiring, tedious day
Upon a flattened cardboard stage
Where paper people make their way
Across the surface and off the page

Another day like those before
Where dull brown rivers slowly fan
Across a featureless sulking moor
covering over once fertile land

The things I think and things I feel
Ring hollow shallow weak and feeble
Instead of being alive and real
I am one of the paper people

I remember the stars were burning bright
My mind was filled with heavenly light
The flaming brilliance of every sight
a sensuous joy, a brilliant delight

Misfortune cast me from the sky
Felled by things I thought were true
Abandoned by the will to fly
I fell among these colorless hues. 

It ever shall be my wearisome fate
To live among the faceless crowds
that trundle across a paper plate
covered by featureless sepia shrouds

Above this plain the light shines through
I hear I’ll never mount the crest
To greet the warmth that I once knew
Of languid days in peaceful rest
No placid tiring tedious days