A Refugee
It was sudden, as they say in dime novels, but it was really sudden: having fallen asleep in this world, we woke up in another, and there wasn’t a place in the world for us. It wasn’t a matter of survival, it was a question when the last man on Earth dies. Sometimes among the crowd of people like me I see angels who lost their heaven too. Still, thin and tall, they look like road signs: signs of nothing, a road to nowhere. We pass them by in silence: nor hope, nor plea, nor prayer.
I heard over there
behind the hills the huge dead
body of god lies
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
