Shapes in the Dark

As for skin blemishes, freckles flocked,

The skin is tilled into a wrinkling fare

With laser light, aimed at old age

To ease the inconsolable decay.

Along the way, the synaptic rampage

And vanity’s party is nearing its end.

So; cosmetic rebirth and frowning,

In order to redeem and to redress.

Last rites will soon be given

For eternity, desperate eternity,

By a dying sympathiser who writes

The chalk word on a city footpath.

It rains, and eternity is graffiti on a wall,

It crumbles,

And eternity is a word floating somewhere.