I see no parade

Excuse me if I see no parades

No floats, banners, trumpets, sequins or bouquets

Forgive me if this to me is vacuous superficiality

Wrapped in 'mannequined' faces with hollowed out eyes

I feel no kinship with the specious and perfunctory

I leave such frivolousness to a world where I somehow

No longer give credence to the belief that I belong

I hold firm and maintain that somehow while I blinked

The world I was born in, loved and reveled in it's wonder

Became superimposed upon an alternate dimension of time

And that reality hurriedly rearranged all it's malleable atoms

Thereby stretching it's tensile pliable version of our world

Flinging all of it's nonsensical, fatuous, shallow and inane

Properties and capabilities through the ultimate paradoxical

Of portals, enabling a juxtaposing of their world for mine

Excuse me if I see no parade

Just an endless void from which I valiantly writhe and grope

Endeavoring to rip open the cursed portal

Transporting me back to my proffered world of my choosing

For what if I am not for the parade, what If I prefer sensibilities

Which existed when time was immersed in kindness and mirth and

Heartfelt joy for life was still a gleam of possibility deeply hoped for

Excuse me if I see no parade

As I stare vacantly into an endless void from which I sincerely hope

That I shall soon awaken, yawning and smiling, fully awake

For I am trapped in a foul nightmare of endless nothingness

Do not ask me how I feel If you want not the bare and naked truth

Am I the wicked witch against modernism and so called progress

I make no apologies and shall to my angelic laurels adhere

For my world has gone to the depths of a 'houndish' hell

From which I can envision no repentance or saving grace

Excuse me if I see no parade!

You asked!

I answered!

MY WORLD IS DEAD!

Yet!

Can hope still spring eternal in the human breast?

N.A.

Quote from Alexander Pope.(Hope springs eternal in the human breast). An Essay on Man.