Empty swings down by the playground
My voice used to be heard in that place
The many voices have now been silenced
Only the memories are there to embrace
Grade school companions have moved on
Somewhere over the settling horizons dawn
My pass through town I come here to stand
Searching frantically for a loose strand
A similar voice heard in the shuffle
Familiar visions but not quite the same
A rememberance of that sweet odor
The mixture of which I cannot reclaim
The old janitor still remains
He recognizes the bulk but refrains
From the recall of old plays
Yet he steadily stays
Faithful to his post at the end of the hall
Down by the boiler room
The great protector of childhood thoughts
Like a miser who guards the virgin womb
There will be no deep penetration today
For the most part the mind will remain numb
Thanks to the janitor who still remains
Beating his loud gloomy drum
Reminding all who return
That there is nothing left to learn
A well that has run dry long ago
In likeness to frazzled tumbleweeds
Over prairies that no longer glow
Under the sun that is concealed behind clouds
That do not return after the rain
An exersize in futility
For the human mind to bear its strain
~Moses~
© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
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