Great Expectations
We never spoke
He was just a statistics my went over
As our car rode pass
Did not want to blow my cover
I am emerging middle class.
And he
Still a young man
Abandoned to his blackness -
A living sample of a whole generation
Lost in our snottiness
Why did I look at him so long
Was something familiar misplaced
In the cloud of my mirror?
He had no where to put his hands
His pockets were nervous, shivering
I guess the presence
Of his hands bothered them too
This is Conway
And from this mountain I see mist
No dreams - a very significant fact
Amidst the sprawl of white
Cotton littering the eyes -
I passed another crop behind ...
Tobacco, something to clear the mind
These are farming folks, well mannered too
Family grows green here and jubilant
I flog my mind to comprehend
The passive air of contentment
Within boundaries frazzled with history
Here is a young man without knowledge of it
Mirror of self
Map of today and tomorrow
Here is apathy to the pall of sorrow
This a cul-de-sac of memory
He chews his tobacco hungrily
Copyright © L'Nass Shango | Year Posted 2009
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