A Token apRise in Asia
poetic scribble by Bob Axell 2009

 

Life is, but a gathering, of tokens.
We fool them, we fiend friends, we poke men.
Many we do leave, we loath sense
Anyone in need, in the open
When it closes, we pass it, with laughter
It opens, we leave it, far after
For later we will buy it, not content when we fry it
It does not matter much, underlying
The sky is fine today, be you flying
Soaring up in senses, tormented of the malice
My land it reeks of change, but my place
Is its palace
But a token of joy, left at home
But an open decoy, left alone
And I won't seek to bother
This feeling outside other
The ceiling caves in, my world saving
Something worth
Something
A token of approval
For my kin