A burning liquid washes away

all the horrors witnessed today.

What has become of an innocence

whom even our children have lost?

-

An amber liquid washes away,

reminders of the debts to pay.

What has wealth become now?

that nobody can grasp it?

-

We have become a nation of reapers

forcing our minds beneath the stone.

What has become of our preachers,

when children must not be left alone,

in the company of a man of God?

-

How hard is it to be missed

when your only contacts,

are found within a digital list?

-

Of these questions, one may glean,

unacceptable answers from sources unclean.

-

For in a story of one man,

who has failed at all he can,

one must realize that from the very bottom,

he can only look up.

-

Look up as he may,

his eyes are seared by the light of day

As an alarm announces how late

he is for a meeting on this date.

-

After all, who really needs

another day at work?

-

Safely tucked away behind the glass,

he toys with some change as faces pass.

He's got barely enough to pay his fare.

-

His mind drifts to all the coins which line the streets.

If only beggars could learn to look down,

they might find dropped riches that lay upon the ground.

-

However he understands it's not easy to look,

for from their position within the world's book,

it's only feasible to look up.

-

A room of silent grave faces greet,

him as he enters his office from the street,

for when isn't Rob late?

-

A familiar box is merely a facade,

advertising his productivity,

and hiding all the games he's played.

-

Remnants of them include a pencil's mark,

and minor vandalisms rather stark,

when compared to the cubicle's everyday gray.

-

For eight hours a day his imagination roams,

with books hidden beneath reports,

and secret thoughts behind exasperated groans.

-

He impresses his employer's by not attending lunch,

how little do they know that it's merely his hunch,

that food can never fill the void he feels in his gut.

-

And as he slips out through those rotating doors,

he never forgets to be awed by the number of floors,

for when he's leaving, Rob always looks up...

-

With all his debts paid, it's up to his feet

to carry him all the way home.

-

Stepping upon so many cracks,

who knows how many mothers' backs

could be saved if he only

forgot to look up...

-

Natural is replaced by artificial,

as he reaches his front step.

-

Rob knows how many cracks are in his ceiling,

and how horridly his plaster is peeling.

But his books and chair remain in good health.

-

Burning the oil late into the night,

he tried to fend off sleep but loses the fight.

As his glasses slip off his face,

and into his pajama'd lap.

-

The next day the same routine,

but on his way to work, he stops

to take up the riches others have passed.

-

A shout raises out as Rob bends down,

but it is too late.

-

He had no family to press the charges,

so the construction company got off scott-free.

-

For as that brick fell from the third story,

for the first time in his life, Rob forgot...

to look up...