Days in the life of a poet

When life gets too complicated and our hearts and minds seek out what is good and provides us sustenance...poetry is the breath of life. Words allow us to communicate...to express that within us that is most precious and real. We crave that which is familiar and gives us comfort...read and receive*

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Every City's Plague

The havoc that is poverty
sits heavy on weary shoulders
and shrouds spirits in gloom
So much sadness and too many
mind-blinded, leading the followers
encouraged by echoes of hope

We see them, or
should I say us...
lost in debilitating sorrows,
drowning in fears of change, while
time perches on a (dying) spindle

Restless souls perceiving no end
to plights mired in the sedement
of shame's depravity;
multiplied by need
entrapped in the shadows
of greed*

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