Lost in the Crowds

The crowd is slowly moving. Shuffling along the path

that leads them to nowhere. But they continue to move

under the flaming sky as planes soar over their heads

shaking the ground they stand on as they wait to climb

aboard. And the little boy is crying because he does not

have any room to play.

For his home and his comfy bed, and the freedom to play

he longs for.  Not until the end of the path.

But where is it, he does not

know. even as the people move

forward and forward, some even beginning to climb

onto the platform where they are being counted by the head

Counting as they enter: one thousand two hundred and sixty seven heads 

of men with out their cigars ,women without their lipstick and children who cant play 

and then comes the ascent, slowly climbing

huffing and puffing until it attains a steady rhythm on the path 

wheels turning, engine churning his stomach in knots

for days on end it continues to move

But now it has stopped, and the people begin to move

The young boy is lost amongst the thousands of other heads

and it is not too long before until the tears can not

be held back. If this is the game of life, he does not want to play.

He feels a smack from behind, shoving him onto the undesired path 

that takes him to the stairs stairs and he begins to climb

Unsteadily, he is climbing

his arms so frail and small,his short legs weakly move.

He did not chose this path 

Yet he will still forge ahead 

This horrid game I can no longer play 

To continue on? I simply can not. 

But choosing to give up is not

the the right decision and he continues to climb

and the tunes begin to play

they sweep him off his feet and move 

him around in circles, kissing his forehead

welcome back our boy, you have chosen the right path 

thats brought you to your home.