With The Wind

Gone with the wind,
A happiness evaporates,
A doll’s smiling face is washed –
Anointed with oil, cleansed with detergent
Then with tears
People walk on the streets
With nothing, with nothing
Nothing to their name.
I pick up a note –
Blowing my nose with a face of superficial emancipation
It is there, the face, the monkeys
Printed innocently on the crisp note –
Happily prancing through trees, a life of fun and game
A wonderful world – enclosed in the dimensions of the bank note
So sweet the scent can be, so fresh the odor may feel
The smell – it brings a twinkle
To every normal being’s lifeless eyes
Greed – I salivate
Yet I wake up from my dream
And use one of these to dry my tears.