RMC

Collapse did the rising roof,
zooming out to spot me alone solo
in a ball as I crawl so aloof
that the answer to anguish lies below.

Foundations of sand swallow
the hollow as we follow idols to fit in.
Vessels of virtue we know hollow
we should fit in not grief or sin.

Bottle joy it’s not a ploy,
for the peaceful to play like a toy
with your emotions they enjoy.
I’ll look within and with love I’ll toil.

Deep in soil growth from
a seed that intercedes to direct paths
will always last if we put to past
all anger and wrath.

Oceans that keep us apart
turn warm the storm of man’s vanity
will have us all believe in part
that how we feel is not sanity.