there's an old man on a city bus
holding a candy cane
and it is'nt even christmas
he see's a note in the obituary
that his last friend has died
there's an inflant clinging
to his overweight mother in the cold
as the spends her last dollar
on a bottle of vodka for tonight
and i guess it struck a nerve
like i had to squint my eyes
you can never get out
of the line of sight
like a barren winter day
or a patch of unburned green
like a tragic real dream
i guess it struck a nerve
every day i wander
in negative disposition
as i'm bombarded by superlatives
that i am not alone
introverted
i look to tomorrow for salvation
but i'm thinking altruistcally
and a wave of overwhelming doubt
