The Quiet Ones

 

The quiet ones we seem to forget

Always in the background

Working and surviving in the daily crush

 

Sometimes we notice them

Feel sorry for them

A few moments until out of our sight

 

Only when we become one of them

We suffer the endlessness

Of the grind in our deafening chaos.

 

 

 

 

Paradise Lost

 

Sun easing down below the horizon

Skylight fading into the beginning of night

Line of scarlet above the sea

 

Breeze coming in off the lazy waves

We sit at the edge of sand and civilization

 

Behind us stirs the streets

So sure of themselves

Fingertips wrapped across the continents

 

Never noticing dark clouds approaching

Stars glowing brighter as witnesses

 

Crowds of men and women and disturbed children

Walking nonchalant and ever greedy

Over the festering mounds of yesterday’s graves

 

There is a way out and we all know it deep inside

Everything telling of His creation for us

But we bit the apple and said we’d do it our way

 

Paradise lost.