The Romance of Oz

I gave my birds some millet They sang for me I gave my pen some love But the pen will not write for me

Cold wind slashes open my cheek Air singes, and rattles my bones I make my way back to my tea I write these lines in the comfort of my home Fragrant flavors dance around my nose Thoughts and Images freely roam A bowl of soup for this hungry stomach A kind companion for this soul, alone. 

Day after day, we till the same fields Yearning for a different tomorrow, we eat the same meals Unable to bear the task, we run from our fears Powerless and weak, we hide from mirrors When will we understand there's no use in tears Drowning in self pity, porn and beers All for naught All such pity Even the learned of old knew Within one's will is strength If ignored this ancient echoes All left in hands in wasted years