Losing who I am, I walk and I wonder,
And as I lose the track of time with the madness of everyday,
I ask my mind if it’s me or if it’s the world that surrounds,
Our reality lost so madness can come out and play,

I ask myself am I human or am I beast,
Am I spirit, life, death or am I even real,
And as I stop to feed the pigeons,
A brief glimpse of what I have questioned is revealed,

The moon watches our dreams,
As we travel to the other realms,
The sun burning our backs as we toil the fields,
The heat of life so powerful that it overwhelms,

The wind rustles in the air,
So the trees can chitter and chatter with their leaves,
The ground shakes from the footsteps of the beasts,
Primal innocence, still yet to be stolen by the technological thieves,

The seas crash against the beaches, the cliffs and the stones,
Dominating and unforgiving,
No mercy for us humans,
For we are alive, but not really living,

The rains fall down to wash away all the sin,
Too birth fresh and new,
Nature’s plan, powerful and all knowing,
That is undefiable, undeniable, but also imaginary and only in the minds of me and you,

Harmony, which around it once was,
But chaos now the forever norm,
Nature not knowing what to do now,
But soon cometh the storm,

We have just simply lost our way in this world,
The money and power took control,
We ignore our primal being,
Whilst convincing ourselves it’ll be ok cos we created the idea of a soul,

We condemn the idea of death,
When death is just as important as life,
The spirit of nature begs for us to understand,
But the our lost ways are contagious and rife,

We live a life that was not destined for us,
We strayed far from the path,
And as we walk further away yet beg to find our way back,
Our tears of desperation fall, but we also mock and laugh,

So the pigeons approach with caution,
Dark times can come for them just by association,
The simple pleasures of manmade feed,
As we take photos of the story but tell lies with narration.

So if you do lose your mind to madness,
And if money and power makes your ambition it’s home,
Then so be it, you poor forgetful primal beast,
Cos the only life we can trade to the modern….. Is our own,

The pigeon will still eat,
And the pigeon will still fly,
Cos the pigeon does not question what it is,
That luxury is only for you and I……

Wrote on: 13/05/20204