Banks of gold and emeralds that gleam with the sun
ingested the screeches of ache until they were gone.
Broad freeways raised waves by fury above and below,
eggs on the cookstove popped while blows tore yellow.
Wee country domicile, royal skies, corn, marriage; nothingness
painted on a traditional canvas that wants to convey happiness.
Enter this sanctum with me, see the ruptured smiles in each vow.
Floors have creaked for decades; silenced by the blood of a cow.
Youthful birdie bred in a hutch and then taken by the same claim.
Money and maiden name bleed from the given gash with shame.
Feathers are ripped out by downy hands that have never worked;
Cookery splashed with vitrics and blood, she painfully squawked.
Body on the floor, burned eggs, monster of a man; sad
'I married you for children!' he spat and she held a mat.
Photographs fell and the days passed, she feed bitten animals.
Five chickens and two cows alive, illnesses of inky cannibals.
She was groggy by the hours of smacks and metallic tastes.
One chicken and cow left, chopped the meat without wastes.
Curved back turned, unlimited insults entered the door frames,
Lumber sinks down with drunken steeps and cruel nicknames.
Vision clouded, nightfall, convulses, scarecrow; blood.
Mind goes to the deeps of individual hate and it floods
with the man on the grass that's crucified on decayed oak trees.
Poor corn frolics, the concubine lacerates the hibernal breeze...
Ten chickens and twelve cows can't pass and disappear only by winged rats!
The season of death is represented by torture, this year the psyche got bats.
'Hell and the earth sent their devils': crimson of organisms held the tension;
night filled with nightmares, man yelled to God as his body received poison.
Sunrise, honeybuns, coffee, empty picture frames; tranquility.
Ravens gobble the eyes of the remains, we see vulnerability?
She sits on the porch in a rocking chair consuming bark.
I told you the drama of suffered freedom that left a mark...
YOU ARE READING
When Only Paper Can Save
PoetrySueño con un paraíso colorido, que el himno nacional sea un latido. The flag will not know bloodshed. Bad people will see what's truly up ahead. Yo quiero que el humano sea humano y que sus acciones no sean en vano. I want people to be treated e...