The image belongs to Martin Brest
on April 1, 2009. © Stani, All rights reserved
these times, looking within, searching for meaning
in our hearts, beating in tune to thunder-like drum beats
rhythmic twists and turns, legs and arms intertwined
caught up in love’s sweet dance of passion.
these times, harsh economic realities
cost cutting measures afoot every way you turn
epitaphs already written, written for the undead
waiting, helplessly, for the inevitable.
sad times, these, sad indeed. who can i turn to for help?
i cannot even join your union because of the color of my skin
where do i belong then? in the closed doorways of time
to stay hidden, to make you think i do not exist?
here i lie in love’s sweet embrace, the only consolation
held in an all too often short-lived clasp
when it is all over, brought down to reality
these times, achy-breaky, harsh times.