Fly Me Away

The little drops and laughter flutters
how my heart dissolves
my legs begin to shake.

This wet cold atmosphere can become a major problem
once I return I don't think I'll turn back.

One time I heard a man singing from the apartment next door. It was awful and out of tune. I never thought I'd meet a person who willingly sings and expresses themselves like that, until I saw them on the street. The voice was a kind, youthful tenor. The body was a sluggish, older, black man with a white tangled bird and a black streak racing down his chin. His eyes looked sunken into his skull and his lips were chapped and red from dried blood.

He willingly sang while I took a drag from a cigarette. Once I passed, he coughed and snapped instantly out of his immense dream. He took one look at me, grabbed the cigarette from my lips and snubbed it out on the curb.

"Don't do this to yourself." He said.

I froze in instant shock and terror.

"Our voice is one of the finest gifts a person underestimates. To pollute it with such filth and disgust is like spitting on a blind beggar. "

With that he started right up again and slowly gimped away.