Contemplating Life on a Park Bench

Contemplating Life on a Park Bench

The park bench at the end of Northern Road
seems like a great place for conversations with the moon.
At two a.m., when you haven’t quite got the words
you need to say, you sit and wonder if tomorrow
could be the day… things change forever.

The park bench at the end of Northern Road
seems like a great place to listen to stampedes, it seems,
of broken footsteps flooding the streets
and shouting in the dark as to why Saturday
will always be the best night of the week.

The park bench at the end of Northern Road
seems like a great place to fall in love with the world.
Even though the sky fell into the ground that day
and you tried to catch it, tried to pick it up but…
it kept falling through your fingers, so you left it there,
sleeping the day away, and you wander… nowhere.

The park bench at the end of Northern Road
seems like a great place to count shards of broken glass
hidden in between blades of grass that cast
a beautiful image of living on the short side of life.
And I can say I’ve seen every side of beautiful.
And I can say I’ve witnessed every side of ugly.

The park bench at the end of Northern Road
seems like a great place to just… live.
Breathe. Watch the world. Enjoy it.
Letting life find you in the darkness to suck out
all of the negativity you’ve been exposed to.
And on this park bench, I’ve seen it all.