The Key Poem by Edmund V. Strolis

Along the way I wonder as I survey this littered landscape
Scattered collateral damage as far as the eye can see
Where are the free thinkers that have gazed into the abyss?
Where amid this game played out, this stage of strutting fools

Where are the ones that call out the jesters playing king
The ones that laugh at the absurdity of the chase
The ones with the knowing glance, a wink and a nod
The ones with ready grins that will mock the pettiness

I now return to that clear minded youthful understanding
The long haired philosopher, with wicked tongue aflame
I realize that decades later, no band of brothers have I.
Not even a quartet or a duet to share the rocky road

Yet no sad soloist am I, not mad or bitter, for that will not do
I step lightly but with purpose in this littered land of dreams
Understanding more each day about the charade before me
With flag raised I move forward, alone but never lonely

In the whirlwind of this passion play their vision is lost
To the scattered few who rise above those wallowing in the mire
The minute hand races as the new year becomes yesterday
No second-hand tunes will do, oh no, I play in the key of me.