I sit On crumbling foundations, Hunched, like the old man I am. A witness to humanity As it falls with me. I see: An old girl who grows up too quickly Between Parents Too caught up in their fight To remember why they do. She escapes, running Down the crumbling halls, Tripping over cracked pavement And stops, Resting her face against Cold, rough, stone, To hide her confused sobs And unloved tears. down the hall: A woman fumbles with needlepoint Ecstacy, Shooting warm nothing into her life. Color explodes into euphoria, And the warmth takes her away From the cracked water stains On the yellowed ceiling And the roaches Scurrying away from her frenzy. She sees God and holds His hand, As the blanket around her muffles From above, the mechanic rhythm Of another's ecstacy, As empty as the one below. The old man, to be young again, Takes pleasure in the act, While the woman Underneath Prays for its end. Her prayer is answered With a gasp and a shudder, As the squeaks decrescendo To a soft pianissimo as Another awakens, A sharp staccato, Of cold sweat. A burning scream frozen on the lips Of horrors long relived. Trembling fingers grope darkness, Searching For their familiar friend: The drink to quiet Haunting nightmares filled with demons Drowning in amber bottles. back to the room of hollowed needle promises: The junkie gets what she wants, As her heart beats Slower and slower, Until she finally gets to see God for the very first real time but watches Him fade away. above, The man falls asleep, And the prostitute Moves to get the money Off he dresser as promised With her naked body, Colored in fever buzzing From the neon outside. Another day she eats So she leaves, passing the crying girl who Covers her ears to quiet The veteran's screams. She closes her eyes to wake up, Then opens them, And realizes this Is the only nightmare She really has.