The fire.
It's engulfing my past,
Invading my home
And leaving nothing but the harsh impression of pain and anger underneath its surface.
The surface,
Is about as convincing as a crying circus clown's painted on smile;
Forced and painful.
It hides so much to outsiders because outsiders can't handle this inside.
In my fifteen years of life on this earth,
I can never remember a time before this when my beautiful Maryland was on national news.
Now it's nothing but shotgun shells tied to bright funeral flowers and set on the casket to wait for a brighter day.
This is for Freddie Grey;
The everything-but-volunteered face of the destruction.
With his undocumented, unknown cause of death
Who would have never wanted to see the day where his brothers and sisters cause more pain,
More death,
In his honor.
This is for his mother,
And father.
His family;
Caught somewhere between wanting justice and wanting peace.
And I'll never understand why there can't be both.
Call me naïve,
Call me childish,
Call me dumb,
Stupid,
Idiotic,
Hopeful,
Call me a dreamer.
I'm only standing up for what should be right.
My right to hope for the right is anything but wrong.
I guess for now all I can do is sit
And dream.
~ Abby 🌹
YOU ARE READING
My Poetic Attempts
PoésieSo many times I've found myself sitting behind a computer screen, Completely avoiding the disappointed stare of life as I waisted mine. Watching people speak with such genuine passion, Such confidence, Made me want to do the same. To inspire people...
