On Pause

Among the wreckage and the filth

and the tainted notion of the ideal

I take a moment

I watch the stars and the darkness

clean of the haze of our craved light

and I simply stare and remember

of a time when nights were our days

and laughter was the common tongue

Where a city with endless possibilities

and a penchant for the arbitrary

was the place we called home

A place that took the lost and the hopeful

those that were stuck, or on pause

and became the catalyst for their change

their reason for pushing play.

And although I long for nostalgia

and the time now passed

I am stuck in this place

where a career is but a dream

and the media is our God.

Where power is given to those undue

and Orwell's words ring clear in our minds

making this place our Room 101.

I look around at the dirt and the mediocrity

and the unrelenting tide of money

waxing and waning

with no real purpose or outcome

and I wish for that better time

that euphoric time

where beauty was appreciated

and love was more than just a word

and although I am enamored

despite the dull and perpetuity

I still find myself

among the wreckage and the filth

taking a moment

A moment to watch the sky melt

and the rain fall

as the sun bursts down on the autumn trees

splashing the copper leaves golden

so that they drip with beauty and I realise

We are on pause.