The Merry Meat

Just a poem.

I run along this blinded street
Among Creation’s merry meat
A man in man’s world but alone
With no way forward, no way home
Why, I wonder, moving on?
I cannot see your demigods
They’re far too high to ever reach
To raise me up, as glances meet
I run along this blinded street
And so the thousands men confined
One in earnest, one with naught
One a thought to keep resigned
I float above our merry meat
Still soaring towards the edifice
Running long this blinded street
Too far past love’s last kiss
But I can feel now
Among the crowd
His final bursts and heat