elephant tears

The overwhelming bleak
and bitter taste,
of sadness...
like the lingering taste of bile, stuck in the throat of despair,
forever.
Opiates of pleasure, purpose,
and happiness.
Rise, come down, and withdraw.
That red wagon, pulled along side streets in the dusk
carrying treasures collected,
but they won't be enough,
and they won't all fit.
Filled up already,
with loneliness, no warm herbs of sweetness.
But the daylight will expose the cracks in the street,
as we walk
toward infinity.