Going through the motions. That's what we've been left with. 
Circumstances are leaving behind bitter residues and lingering 
impressions. Momentum moving under a power that was shut down 
during the years of diversion. A whole lot of head turning and 
attention grabbing that got the better of us all. Tuning in 
for more tasty bits to fulfill our ever-evolving appetites. 
And through it all we never managed to hear the crying that 
was coming from the other room. We just turned out the lights 
and turned up the volume. It was always so easy. 

Today has always been the same. It's always there to sink 
yourself into. With its passages and hidden corners -- ample 
room to store all your memories and bruised hopes for the 
future. But the future never seems to come around. Round and 
round we go. Faces turning before our eyes. Hints of recognition 
fastening themselves on the wall...hooks to hang whatever we 
have secured during the day. Monuments to our precious sense 
of longevity. Something to look upon as we settle in for the 
night...providing a modicum of comfort -- a tumbling formation 
of detail to offer our hungry dreams. 

Sinking further into the cushioned corners that were designed 
for just such occasions. Close your eyes and forget all your 
troubles. They'll be waiting for you when you get around to 
them. Relax... Funny how you never did come around -- funny 
how those demons just grew stronger there in the darkness. 
Feeding on your negligence. Blocking the only path out that 
you left yourself. 

Outside, the children are singing a midnight rhyme. With words 
that ring with familiarity and cut through your shattered 
windows. Wondering to yourself just how late it has gotten. 
And aren't their parents worried. Knowing full well they're 
chilled to the bone. But the curfews have become reversed. 
And the hop scotch outlines have been all but washed away by 
the recent rainstorms. Puddles are no longer for skipping 
through, and the river's edge got lost on the well-tended 
lawn of our newest development -- flooding escape routes and 
spilling dirty secrets into the city sewer. What did we 
expect? Anyway... 

The old-timers are congregating on the front porch steps of 
the corner store. Watching as the casualties make their way 
from rescue vehicles. Shaking their heads in unison and making 
residual remarks to the volunteers about forgotten remedies and 
tried & true methods for tending to the deepening wounds. Met 
with curious nods and cynical asides. Best to leave these 
matters to young hands. Shuddering at the thought of the next 
batch. Due at any minute. 

And the minutes keep coming. Doing what they do best. Displaying 
to all in attendance their relentless and swaggering stride. 
Cracking the dawn in full force. Exhausting all efforts to stem 
the tide. Grinning in recognition to yesterday. Flirting in broad 
daylight to the tender morrow. Leaving everyone trembling in 
their wake. Healing everything in passing. A bravado display 
for sure. Becoming all that we could ever expect. Turning in a 
repeat performance that we have all come to attend. Day in. 
Day out.