The Sun Does Not Actually 'Come Up' nor 'Go Down'

 
Little man.......
Little [i][/iold man
Sitting on curbstone
Dazed as to what
he is and what became
of the sounds he made,
(but can make no more) as
Love jumped ship so damn
long ago that even the dry,
broken appendage stays hidden,
unmoved by any sex that will
not even tease him. And
The Heart, the bedraggled,
embattled Heart, stitched as
a beloved baseball smacked,
whacked in some forsaken
Elysian field where only
ghosts and their shadows
play the perfect game until
all the ball and strikes are called,
and sun goes down down down
and the game is 'called' because
of darkness, senses tingle wit their re'call
imperfections, and you can no longer
"the way home". Just hobble'walk in that
deep dark 'til ye can walk no more.
Leave it to those hungry, ugly birds
to be the yOur undertakers

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