Can you stay calm through the garish noise
While those around you have gone deaf
Can you believe in yourself and a fickle path
When others remove vital signs along the way
This trilogy has poisoned the well; sullied us
Created a muddy road that spirals like a rusty coil
Every weekend I drink brassy toasted kill devil
Looking for these answers amongst cubes

Can you still hope that tomorrow will bring relief
Aim at the yellow sun and think “ahh it’s still warm”
Can you rise each morning like an unwrapped gift
Your steps crinkling like paper as the routine starts   
Agendas trickling down your steamed shower curtain
Staining a mirror that serves as a printed aged portrait
A steady hand can wipe it clean, remove the dank blur
Leaving finger prints that fade with the cooling air

by Amaury

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