134 – Bones

When all is said
And done,
Who has the final word?

Life among
The stench of
Stale air and old garbage
Isn’t usually a voluntary choice.

Children crying
Alone in closed apartments,
Wail like cursed sirens
From a forgotten Greek tragedy.

The tales
Of so many anonymous
Falls from grace
Are never spoken.

Hope lost
In a forest of neglect,
Slowly turns to apathy
And rage.

Society likes to paint itself
As as elegantly written
By men in high towers,
Driven by big ideals
And manifest destiny.

But hose who lay wasted
Pushed into the gutter,
Sometimes grow claws of despair
And teeth of bottled anger
To rip her flesh apart
And spit her bones.

• • •

Want to comment about what you read?