Angel wing feathers touch moss grown skin
Hymns lick the walls of the cave called home
Windows twelve feet high, only those with
Beetle feet would ever understand the things that
Live outside, that roam miles before touching water
But keep going out of fear of being stuck, that
Try to heal hurt soil housing veins of starving flowers
That pray next to the forests, as vodka runs down
Their neck as onlookers try to feed them. Foaming
Mouths drip onto concrete steps in front of the
Chapel, they don't make it but try.
Power outages race tendon wires of liquid poison,
They taste it, and turn away. Leaving brothers
To weep on church pews, screaming at the ceiling for
The hell they've constructed with bare hands
Each pathway to cross brought families close enough
To damn each other
Three decades and still my feet rest in the cavern
The world is dark, cities blame each other for
Debt and poverty. Street lights hung
On each corner remind us that there is always
A reason to keep walking. No one thinks to
Look up.
YOU ARE READING
Breakable Contents
Teen FictionCollection of poetry and short narratives I've written so far, some of it is simply class assignments while others are older, published works. All of them were written of experiences personally affecting me; nothing artificial! Thanks for reading- y...
