a Man, coated in bronze,
resides in a reality illuminated
under a cerulean sun.
Born under the influence of generational despair, 
losing a home to empty bottles made of plastic and glass. 

aware of the opinions on his exterior, familiar with skepticism of my choices—
Standing upon the static river, 
tilting his head back in search of a  divinitive voice, only to be met with 
an exploding moon. 

Can you read my mind, please?
Asked the bronze man incapable of translating for emotions 
with no distinct language. 
Why did you get to leave me?

Speaking with his volume on mute, subtitled in sign language,
he desires to be seen amongst black stars,
wishing upon divinity for miracles that will never happen.
Succumbed to the truth that he is broken, retrospective of betrayal
the man loses faith in ivory pages and navy ink.