Invisible
They wander through the streets smart;
Aleck. Baldwin wrote about inner
City. Limits to where they can . . .
Openers on the counter of soup
Kitchens. Table manners are lacking
Substance; abuse. Mothers crying,
Babies from womb to grave. Yard
By yard. Stick to being invisible.
Copyright © Rex Holiday | Year Posted 2008
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