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Beneath the earth and concrete paved with time
lies a vagrant soul, body of mine.
Simple, mental notes; shouts of alone play.
Loss and gain, the sun still turns away.
I, I feel the need not to return.
I’m cold. The stare of loneliness and yearn.
And skin: It cracks and thickens with its age
although this act will never hit the stage.
Looking to the side I see
standing next to me is me.
Beside myself, this body of mine.
The wind blows through the frame of me.
Mourning, grief the same to me
with simple flesh this body of mine.