Calloused Souls [Poem]
These calloused soles step soundly in the streets, circling the buildings where wise men were known to meet. These scarred hands are pushed into pants' pockets, fidgeting for fixation and some rest. This stoic body sails between streetlights, while mind wonders what it's done to earn this night. Brain A decides it's raining to ruin his day, brain B's more scientific and knows why it is this way. Brain A is to belligerent, and B quick to concede. Must find equilibrium, if either are to proceed. These calloused souls moving through lifes lives, circling from where one's born to where one dies. Scars remain, even if unseen to eyes fidgeting around to find what they desire. The stoic body speaks null of what's inside, as mind wonders until it lands where it decides.
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