connecting*the*dots

long lost are the days of casual
there never were…
in actual
factual
just moments of highs on low
a devastating glow
coming off as sheer talent
but it’s surely no more valiant
than the running of the bull
shit on my shoes
walking down sixth avenue
I find myself alone once more
played out to be the street whore
money on demand
a territorial errand
there I stand
lost is my soul
never once bought or sold
just a sight to behold
for when I turn over another leaf
it will be strong with my belief
or so the song goes
dancing on the tips of my toes
how ripe the story goes…
time only knows