Ad space for the brain dead

Flecks of color amid the gray wash
Rivers once formidable now only bothersome
Steel and concrete

Voices shouting
WAKE UP! an advertising sign screams silently
Still unheard a man jangles for change on a street corner
While church doors hang wide begging charity

Hockey games and unspoken rivalries
Except on national T.V

Bike shops, bus stops
Messengers and a mail box

Highways to by ways
But no one knows the right way

Got Junk?
Emotional maybe

Bentley's, all the baggage you'll never need
Oh please, words flow in chorus
Dramatic gestures following fluid as trained actors

Therapy is the way for me
Why not with M.D degrees being handed out like fortune cookies

No real complaints until you find yourself on Dr. Fill in the blank
Listening with glazed eyes as they doles out advice like Opera

Glass half full until its pushed off the metaphorical table
But how does that make you feel?

It's all become to much now
As directed on the back packaging

Please recycle your brain matter
They may need the ad space