Grey
Is the color
Of power.
You can see this:
Office buildings are grey.
Cubicles are grey. 
Money, two letters off.

White is the color of peace,
And hope, 
And the color of the linoleum 
Where they take pieces of you
And put it on a card.

Brown
Is the faces 
Of most I see.
It's interesting how color
Affects so much.

Black, 
Their smiles. 
The screen,
The air.

I think,
...

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Sitting in a plastic chair,
Waiting for a person
To tell me
If I can afford
This month

How did I
Get here?
I had dreams.
I had goals. 
And so did
Everyone in this room.

The wait
Kills
The screams of bored children
Pop my peace
And I wonder
Why?
It's a simple enough question.

Why me?
Why here? 
Why now?
God,
I suppose. 
His laughter feels
Like nails
Pounded into nails...

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War is waged
With soldiers
But mostly money.
Isn't that
What old men
With both
Say?

I fight the World War of my life,
And yet,
And Yet.
I see neither approach 
On the horizon 
And I wonder
How long
I'll keep looking.

Your promises mean nothing,
Because that
Is what I've got
To show for them.

I implore,
Don't get my hopes up
Again this time.
Say "no" if you want.
Accord...

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Ask for help,
They say
With quiet judgmental rebuke
So I ask
And then I plead
And deafness
Greets his friend
Stagnation.

Today
Means tomorrow.
Tomorrow,
Next week.
I have yet to see
What
"Within the year"
Means,
And it's been Two.

Each letter,
A careful trapeze,
Am I too sick?
Not sick enough?
The war waged on 
In my body.
They promised me
Soldiers
"Within the year."

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