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REFLECTIONS… 
Wake up call - 
 Or not. 
Another day stretches out 
In empty wastes of self-absorbent lines. 
It’s time again to live out Death’s bleak show. 
Mid-day meal 
 Or fast 
From the greed that gnaws unsated 
at what is best, pure and sacred; 
Forcing confrontation 
With the face that haunts the mirror. 
Night-time lullabies 
 Or elegies 
Of fruitless lives spent in a vanity of dreams, 
That mock our need for meaning, 
And peter out in weightless-ash 
Long forgotten by the traveller, 
On the grim road of this dance of graves.

Reflections...