STAIRWELL POEM #10

Fourteen steps on fourteen lines
tired old railings from too many hands.
Steps that bend to the weight of the shoe –
and where is the rhyme to make it all true?
He would sing and if necessary scream
he would write or recite regardless of theme
Becoming the singer and sound track of dreams.
The blind poet say’th, “Who can see better than me
and what does it mean to be truly free?”
The future, the past, or the unseen now
what lines, what thoughts are behind that orange glow?
The weight of the shoes, the weight of the hand,
he feels and sees life brutal, boring and bland.
But the parade of life still passes, and where was the band?