Medicated People in the City.
There exist a few medicated people
Nowadays in the city.
They seem to be just about everywhere.
They appear to get closer and closer to nowhere.
They are walking the city back and forth.
They are laughing and mingling, and they are shouting.
While some of the other times they are
Crying and hurting. Sometimes trespassing
Beyond some powerful and vivid boundary line.
Between reality and daylight stands an unwritten sign
Sending cold sweaty chills down my spine.
"You are not to walk on this road."
And once one walks on that road they cannot
Seem to remember what the sign bode.
These people are strolling dangerously perhaps among us,
Always catching an unseen bus. Many a time making a terrible fuss.
Many a time asking for a dime, helpless and drowsy under thick layers of grime.
Their behaviour borderlines insanity. Their demeanour defies urbanity.
Yet one believes or thinks they'd want ecumenism in humanity,
Yet their mouth blubbers inanity.
Their insularity defies any sense, or need for connection
As their strange bipolarity lacks direction. Their overall attitude demands correction.
Some never experience the state of clarity. Many indulge in a curious display of vulgarity.
I saw them in the city today. Together alone like antelopes running from pray.
Say what you say, yet their vagabond feet are tired to stray.
And when they get tired to stray they'd wish they could stay one more day,
Fidgeting endlessly in this heavily loaded "tabernacle of clay."