I can see
A bunch of leather clad zombies
Hunkering around a barrel fire for warmth
In the freeze of winter
I can see
Suits and poindexters
Shuffling their leather loafers
Doing their best to avoid the streets
Because that's below their pay grade
I can see
A taxi honk and swear
As it drives past worn and torn linen
And stops for new silk
I can see
Those small voices
Chanting about change because they believe in it
Only to be silenced by duct tape
From those on the fifth floor
Because it's disrupting the flow of the city
I can see
That change isn't going to happen
Because the city is trapped in a bad twilight zone episode
And the narrator is gone off somewhere
And cannot help
I can see
Words are only a publicity stunt
Because it'll help get the clicks and the likes
But real life nobody likes
And it's sick
I can see
Ashes on the sidewalk
Beside the butterflies in the grass
Getting smoke lung
Their wings turning gray
I can see
A city
And streets
Bus schedules
And traffic lights
All behind a wooden sign
That reads
Welcome to prince george
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Book 4
Poetryhello again! another poetry book - number four, to be exact. if you've been here a while, you know the drill: there's no order to this thing, and after 100 poems or writing pieces, there's gonna be a new book. about the cover: it was a Thursday at S...
