Dark Days
How many people does it take
to make the darkest days?
A hundred thousand, a million plus
that pray how many ways?
Throughout our world
that's filled with strife
pain and suffering
War, not peace accompanied by
no shelter from the sun
skin dried out
their lips are cracked
there's no such thing as fun
Scratching something on their arm
a bug in place of food
a plastic bowl
though partly broken
will hold water from the well
the four mile walk
too much for most
it is their living hell...
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.
