Broken Bleeding Heart
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"How can the dead be truly dead when they still live in the souls of those who are left behind?"
—Carson McCullers, The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter
Which moron invented the term joy-riding
tell me... where is the pleasure?
An innocent cyclist
mown down by a stolen car
my only son ...
left dying in the gutter -
he didn’t stand a chance
Six months later...
I sit in silence in the juvenile court
to observe four mealy mouthed little toe rags
with sneering sniveling faces
No one will admit to being the driver
They stand in a line
in front of the judge
He orders they are sent to
a young offenders institution
They will be out after a short time...
Yet my precious child has a life sentence ...
in a cedar casket on my mantelpiece
My life will never be the same
but I take small comfort
knowing that my son
carried a donor card
life support turned off
organs to be harvested
in death he gives life
FICTION POEM
Writing Challenge 2, July 2019 Melancholy- Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Broken Wings
7/21/19
Copyright © Jan Allison | Year Posted 2019
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