Fissures divide the blushed cheeks of pavement,
Spotted inconsistencies individualizing
Each individual--
Untouched,
But still sharing similar circumstance
And certain fates.
Compassion is not received
But always welcome to such hearts,
Thumping to stale-monotonous deaths.
Weathering wears down their faces,
Unseen day-to-day,
But vividly apparent
In the long run they become!

---

Rimbaud sat beauty on his knees,
But these souls have no limps to grasp;
Trapped in space,
Only to be walked over for being embedded
With the ground as one.

Characterize plights into fathomless expedients,
Make them uninterpretable to other minds;
Ritualize flight into meager daily life--
The tasks--
Meaningless fodder for all!
Seethe the stress in the most inefficient ways,
As to boil over and explode--
No!,
combustion resorts to a lack of consumption--
Certain death.