'You' Poem by Shelby Barker

When nature is my lover,
friend, the best of all other
I wonder; how do I escape my overgrown palace, my labyrinth,
being soil?
Wandering restlessly, shouting
incantations ever so vainly — expectantly,
with a weak flame licked up by shrubbery, I am vain -
When has my devotion become excessive? ;
when do I surrender, and become dastardly?
Shone upon by a fluorescent sun-lit room, can my
cracked and faithful fingers play a neglected piano, out-of-tune
and make it beautiful to a world of ruin?
Change judgments from all creatures alike…
and as the winds come, as the walls
succumb to the savage air
Can my so faithful hands mend broken glass
as it dispels upon fellow useless mass?
Vain, oh I am vain, to attempt repair at the wallowing and unwilling.
The end’s nascency has come —
I have failed, my friend…