Omnibus: Sulking cumulatively apathetic conscience.

On the scales of my shoulders sit
the most haphazard, mountainous clouds.
And I pretend that every night
I weigh my worries to my wages
in libraic poundage til my arms
are too tired to feel
which side is heaviest because they might as well be
haphazard,
mountinous,


clouds.
Soon rather,
they slide back into the azimuth
looking to the mouth of a star,
a delta,
the eye of the world
to remind us of the proof
that everything we love
and everything we hate
will soon fade away with
every door slamming
exit from a storm.

I watch the sky more often now,
it is the reminder
to escort your worries


the truth that imbalance in humanity
will always be there, even if you open your eyes
because we can only see the world