[Adonis]

This filthy planet had done its best but had failed
Fernando would find happiness through this worlds oppressive thin veil
A breezy life that set sail, floating through the sea of these drones
He could see through their bones, souls decreasingly shown
No one pays attention unless you were a iPhone
But Fernando loved living even though he lived all alone
He could block out the static with a weapon he had
A little happiness outlasts the hapless presence of crap
This bustling city couldn’t contain the fuel that he burned
People stacked upon people, living in filth, making germs
His days were spent watching them work to make rent
It didn’t make sense, the commotion of herds for a cent
Land was always free, but now, suddenly, it’s monitzed?
This was baseless to Fernando and the honor he prized
Ex junky who chose to clean up his act
He’s still a punch line, in fact, lines are what set out his path
He soon graduated to ‘Skag’, living life wasn’t real
His only goal daily was to drift off into the dreams he’d conceal
The search wasn’t hard, pan handling was easy
Thieving pockets unsuspected as the subway moved freely
Once an addict, always one, this statement is known
Fernando’s a good soul, just loves vacation alone
Mai Tais in his head, a summer breeze while it’s winter
This fleeting feeling would not be released from this sinner


….


Fernando entered the stall, giddy as ever
Thought, “How clever”, as he read “Oscar the Grout” between tile that’s weathered
He’d seen better, after all, art was born in New York
Still, a slight chuckle rang warm from his throat
He could taste it already, a glimpse of heaven revealing
It’s no wonder a long search lead to concessions appealing
He sat down, pants remained strapped to his waist
Though his belt was now fastened to a track leading the race
A simple flick with his index released a pocket of air
Lost in his chair, he’s sent off without care
He’d nod, eyes fixed in a glare, mind lifting his hair
Spine sinking, miosis induced, heart skipping its share
Fernando sat happily as hours would pass
His blank stare was relaxed though his soul had collapsed
His final breathe was one injected on purpose
We all die, so the writing’s on the wall,
His just happened to be dripping in cursive -
From bloodshot eyes in a stall