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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 © | Year Posted 2016




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Date: 2/23/2016 4:34:00 PM
HA, Well I was not expecting that end. this is a deep and interesting. I don't think I am social to even say the least. Judgment comes just by knowing. I really like your honesty in this poem. Hugs. LINDA
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Adriana Thompson
Date: 2/23/2016 6:44:00 PM
Sometimes I feel that I am wasting my time with writing, and I could do something else to help humanity, therefore the guilt. But in the same time I have a sinful love for writing, and I can't see myself doing something else. I don't know who said the pen is mightier than the sword, so if I helped at least one person through my writing I think I didn't live in vain.