photo by AFP August 2016 |
unseen knives
Love once
in the hearts of men
and women everywhere
you cannot feel it leave you
as you breathe in ample maybe
on this wintry December's day
here in the US of A
we have plenty
not that we share with each other
let alone the rest of the world
there are always it seems many
major players behind the scenes
sayers and surveyors
of where angels lie
with their dirty faces
wait weighting for demise
knowing hubris is often
a better weapon wielded
against the self
cloaked in the dying light
of day time once
when it was a
we the people too
thought that
we could save the world
and now we can barely pay
the bills on time
there are stage crafty
robber barons afoot
each with different caches of loot
ready to bargain their exit strategies
proxy approximate
to hide their we started
wars scars
I have only warred with myself and
I have many places my soul
has been burned
and broken into
pieces of me
stolen away
forever gone
with only a scar
left behind to remind me ...
Jonestown, Atlanta child murders, Son of Sam,
the air traffic controllers strike etc etc etc ...
all of these empty places
inside me become tombstone towns
though not in the dead light crown way
like stars at night
but rather like ghosts
who don't know they're dead
carried out into the light
one last time
EJR ©
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