Granite are the waters of the earth, the sands of time

                        blazed to charcoal

blurred with the grime of the millions; only a dime

                           per redeemed soul!

Lukewarm the tears filling the sewers of a subconciouss 

                              that just awoke

Steadily the manicured hand wields a plastic holy cross 

                            bathed in diet coke. 

"Tomorrow will be early" too late for the channel lackeys

                   to take back yesterday's news...

51 shades of frustration, disarray, boredom; the psyches

               of the wealthy quickly change hues.

And while old Queen Life is resting her purse on her rickety 

                               trembling weary lap

gallantly handing out kind words, bonbons and gum sticky 

                            with empathy and sap.

not quite resigned and begging for a "hello" and hopefully 

                         some polite small talk 

with the unkind, ennuied, haughty youth who shun her

                         and get up and walk.

"I hear that the sundown is better seen from this year's 

                           summer hot spot"

Even better if watched behind pointless and trendily 

                           sarcastic brand sunglasses 

Nonchalant, they "bail from the scene", leaving her existence to slowly

                         narrow down to nought,

until she's dust; obscure, forsaken and forgot; wasting away in lowly 

                          antiquated city buses.