The sky is a grey canvas
On to which you claw your arms
Desperate to paint in flashes
Longing for a place in the universe
Do you not see
That woman on the side of the road
Praying for her child’s first meal?
That man hanging on the rails of a train
On his way to earn his house’s bread?
The millions of feet wading through a murky sea
To meet an enlightened merchant?
No.
Instead you throw yourself up
Painting pointy streaks on your sky
You are Icarus learning to fly
Too fast too high
You do not see
What happens in these small lanes at night
Where lost children hunt their latest fix
Dreamers stand outside celebrity houses
To get a glimpse of their Moses
Where a bad day at the stock exchange
Bankrupts a tea stall
Black.
As your canvas turns its shade
You fight its darkness with your bejeweled lights
You party, you drink, you dance
Pump up the sounds to SCREAM your existence
How do you not know?
You don’t need a mark on the universe
You are your own universe
You are the body and the spirit
The ethereal and the real
You don’t need your sky
You are your own canvas!
