A fountain of tears washed my cheeks,
As I gazed upon his face.
Memories came flooding back as I reflected
Upon the days,
The days when I was free,
My thoughts were serene.
I had a reason for living,
When I loved and was loved.
As powder captured
And then scattered by wind,
So was my happiness ripped away by sin.
Sin? Ha! Sin!
The rich and powerful always wins.
When "une perroquet" can clearly recount
The never fading, ever so fresh scene without thinking
Yet, on the stand he gets tongue tied,
His brain gets fuzzy, and suddenly:
The "Posh Monsieur" doesn't lie!
A brown envelope, shut tight
Peeking out, waving hard from his denim braces.
Fetes in his family, in her house, and his room
But my love lies, cold, lonely, hungry, and destitute.
A shallow, dark, nasty place
You wouldn't dare venture in your wildest dreams.
Fighting, till fight runs from you
Struggling, till dare life unclings you.
Breathless and ready to die
He walks free and he watches him do it.
.
.
.
.
Inspired by injustices stemming from status, money and power.
YOU ARE READING
My hearty poems
PoetryEver felt down? Empty? Lost? Sweetheart, that's completely normal. We've all been there, done that. There ain't a compass or a handbook to life. There is literally, no guide! We're all strays. But-tah, some of us stray onto right paths. Others to th...
