Envious of the vociferous inebriates that baptise the streets with golden streams
I am longing to kiss the sky, to kiss the sky
To hold up my arms and be embraced by the omnipresence once familiar to me
My eyes have been tainted of late
Another psychotropic failure
Caging my soul yet allowing me to fall
A laboured quest for a holy grail called stability
I look to the future with hope

My greatest friend
My sweetest promise

Time will beckon again when I must wear my routine mask
and attire myself with everyday drapery ready to perform on this stage
as calm as the breeze I will recall my response with precision
"Alright, How are you?"
"Fine thanks, You?"