better juice
stewing in my own juices
in this
dystopia
of a nation
masked thugs
tearing
brown babies
from their mothers' arms
raking the brown
off the streets
disappearing the
inheritors of the kingdom
idiots who believe
in an ever-after
there will be
a time after
masked thugs
and mass terrorization
evil visits the evil
and payday
isn't always Friday
I can't wait
to write a poem then
but what will it be
by then
just
a poke in your
blind eye
and better juice
Copyright © Steven Young | Year Posted 2025
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment