Busy people with busy lives
Forgetting to take a moment
To look beyond themselves.
They sit behind red lights,
Honking their horns loudly,
Demanding immediate change.
Never seeing the world
Sitting all around them,
Never taking a moment
To view the rolling clouds.
Single bright bulbs blur,
Becoming one long stream
While the cars buzz rapidly by.
Blinders keep their vision focused
Directly on the road ahead,
Constantly missing the point.
They never see what sits beyond
The windows of their cars.
Myopic vision confined
To the sights they've already seen.
And even though their world
Really makes no sense,
They insist upon keeping it
Sitting alone on the bricks,
Eight legs crouched low and close,
Eating from the chosen flower;
Yellow tufts of delicious flavor
Electrify the sense of taste.
Little bits slide backward,
Light swallows helping to move them
On a digestive journey.
Warblers nearby cause alarm,
Plucking through the flowers with their beaks,
Looking for his distinctive red hue.
Alone he sat, safely on the bricks,
Nearly sure he was safe until the human approached.
To be sure, it wasn't how he expected to die.
Scrambling around on the floor
Hands and knees getting burned
As they rub against weathered carpet.
Shaking hands reach under furniture,
Twisting to fit into spaces too tight
Ever searching and seeking
But staying empty.
A throat clears, calling his attention
To the woman smiling impishly
As she held the object of his search
Between forefinger and thumb.
Sighing, he rose and thanked her,
Giving her a kiss as he took the ring
And returned it to his naked finger.
Written by ChristheZorua
Charmander, the first fire-type
Pre-evolution made you cute
For whatever reason it shows
Fire does not make you mute
The flame on your tail stays lit
Along with your passion
Just be clear about your standards
Like your hate for fashion