(C) Geoff May
I listen to the rhythm of the rolling thunder
As the rain drizzles around me,
A dark storm cloud passing overhead.
Unwrapping a small blob of gum, it's sweet minty aroma filling the air,
Laying in an open field, I see far off, children playing -
A gentle breeze blows; the rain, soft and warm lands on my face.
The dark, heavy air envelopes me, while a mysterious dull rumble
Glides smoothly, passing overhead.
A crumpled dollar bill wafts in the breeze and I envision a king -
His chubby fingers fumble through his riches, searching his royal garments,
For a single missing coin.
He can't find it, and slumps back in his throne, tired and depressed.
Thick, heavy robes draped over his arm; greed, boredom and rest,
Fighting for control.
A storm softly rumbles just outside, taking away any light
That may represent hope or freedom.
The king just sits, bound by his heritage.
The children have left.
The sweet has vanished from the once chewy gum.
Boredom. Just another depressing day.