Ticking clocks count down
Darkening clouds hover,
dripping fear on my drenched head.
Ashy aroma of destruction lingers on pink tongues,
thickening around every corner.
I push through hallways crowded with people but empty of thought.
Ignorance suffocates.
Honking metal murderers race while
distracted drivers drift.
The pungent smell of alcohol often blends with the faint scent of regret.

Water splashes
Exasperation
Drowning in why’s and what if’s
One shove from underwater
Too heavy to stay afloat
I fear an imminent fate

But then, I see
deep blood-reds and tangy, citrus oranges
splattered on the sky blue canvas above
and
calloused, wrinkled hands grasping mine,
deprived, thirsty children praying for a cherished drop
greeting with flashing mile wide grins.

Wading to the surface, floating
Remnants of salt and sand on my desert-dry lips
Pretending I can lay here forever
Weightless and wondering
Waves of inspiration and need trust me towards shore
I remember what I saw
If they can swim, so can I.