With the longing of a long lost lover,
Calling out with promises of unvanquished worlds
Of pavements of hope strewn with silver ladders,
And of virgin sun-kissed peaks of nearby mountains.
Age has robbed you of your magnet
And now you blend in perfectly
With those withered dead winter leaves
On the face of that murky deadpan wall -
The sole witness to the harshness of Time.
There have been countless dreamers
Who have walked up to you and
Taken the attraction a step further.
But there was your lonely beauty back then.
Why am I standing at your doorstep?
Maybe there is misery untold
On the other side of that murky wall
And you are contraception against the blackness
But I am a little fatigued from all this beige
And would sell my spleen to discover.
So I stand here and wonder
Whether you open inside or out.
And if my seemingly gutty spleen is worth it.
Your disclaimer is announced in guttural creaks
As my lips turn with your knob.