Some People
SOME PEOPLE…
some people beg in the corners of the streets –
cover themselves in rags of ex-clothes thickened by the streets’ slime
dig in trash for spoiled foods and dirty empty bottles
huddle above the sewage covers in the cold nights
and I hide my hands in the pockets
some people are shot in the alleys for a few coins mixed with lint –
they forgot to hug the loved ones before they left their homes
and die fast or slow and their blood thickens in the dust
lives are draining without a decent warning
and I hear about them in the evening news
some people spend their lives in prisons for justice or injustice –
they grab the metal bars of the windows with impotent anger
inhale and perspire their food with shifty eyes
tattoo their bodies with emblems hoping to get out alive
and I don’t love them as if their misery is foreign to me
some hairless children die of cancer still dreaming of fairytales –
they learn complicated medical terms along with the ABCs
eyes are half opened toward the tearful helpless mothers
pale lips shiver with the shock of a body giving up
and I want to be comforted shifting my thoughts from them
some people are old with shrinking bodies –
hunchbacks without cathedrals as if they carry a load of guilt
unfashionable clothes smell of piss and flatulence
wrinkled bodies fold onto themselves like broken accordions
and I keep away from them because they slow me down
some people…
Copyright © Adriana Thompson | Year Posted 2016
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