day

Broken ideals decorate the path
Error Corrected thoughts discarded
Images of dirt filled imprints on the floor
For the sounds of empty jugs of delivered water
push into the vision of silent temperance.
Gaggles of inept souls surrounding the transcept
within my fading concentration.

Drawing in the final smells of happiness
Footing made solid around fluid indecision of life.
Standing like a disolved shadow on the wall I go.
Another day to contemplate the detailing facet of thought.

I don't really understand what this is talking about, but I really like the words you use. It has a cool rythem and flow.

It is a little hard to understand, but you used some lovely imagry, and like jennafina said, the words were great too.

Drawing in the final smells of happiness

I like the idea of happiness having a smell!

For this poem, it shows the quick disjointed thoughts of someone starting another drudge of a day.
Distain, anoyance, and just dealing with what needs to be done.

It is not suppose to flow. Imagine quick cuts from an editor shown on the screen.