Nonsense To You Maybe
Blind discontent bets
on favor of the gods
Nondirected energy ricochets
back to the source and
tears apart
Dreadful vengeance bows
to your bidding
with pocket foggy
retribution
Roll over crisscrossed rage as
aluminum pop tops tinkle
on shaved black head
ebony living statue testifies
You did not pay attention.
Hope left long ago on wings
of the moment.
Copyright © Jill Martin | Year Posted 2006
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