Here I stand. My reflection not within the rich man’s gleam.

Alone in a vacancy I cry out as a thrown away.

Adorning bare feet and heart, I wonder where He is in powdered skies, as my hardened glance in glass smothers me in woe-ing my destiny.

Pity my hand, as theirs, not bathed in perfume and lilacs.

Nary a sidekick, nor fellow smile to comfort me.

Here I stand, desiring the fruits of all that toiled the soil.

Forgetting at this moment, that which strokes my heart.

For in that sight beloved, loathing he who stands in your smiles casting for thoughts of self-centeredness.

Blissfully, I hold your vision on a withered palm, reminiscing your perfection.

In kind, as the ladybug stretches her night sleep from wings at first light.

My quiet world erupts with living at a thought of you, songs to heaven stand.

For my memories of such great sweetness, fertile my riches be.

By: K. Mulroney