I want to own a restaurant,
a haven for the hungry,
Three stories with only the 1st being open to the public.
Floors of hardwood,
Every seat, every table will be unique,
same with the chandeliers,
something you have never seen.
Beautifully painted walls,
Beautiful paintings hung on each.
Penthouse space on the top floor,
housing only the essentials.
Hallways housing my expressions.
Utopia on the second.
Each room a different ambiance,
filled with cultivated individuals,
filled with conflicting ideologies.
Peace like there never was violence
A paradise for The Forgotten
Destination for The Driven
Where the essence has finally met its existence
Where the universe is run by the rulers of the horizons
Success is valued,
as value is success.
Temple for the mind and the body,
Soldiers of serenity.
Ropes yanked to Brooklyn
20:17 Sophrosyne Ave.
Maybe one day,
when I’m a better man,
when what has been
found has been lost,
I’ll own a haven for the hungry.