but its own
Reflects not what we demand
but what it desires
The ill-fitting of a new shirt
and the blemish once banished
to the land of evil
The hollow eyes of a wayward traveler
kicked to the side of capitalism's
gold-plated highways
The empty hope of a window-shopper
calculating paydays 'til their big
purchase
I saw a world lost to time and memory
and it smiled at me.