Vale Do Rico Homem

Vale Do Rico Homem 

A strange place, houses are as big as castles
tall forbidding wall on top, broken glass set 
in cement; gates that can withstand a tank.
A lush valley, but no bird songs, presumable 
the occupants of this scary place want peace.
I sat on my scooter for an hour in the hope of
casting a glimpse of the people inside, but no.  
each palace was like little islets cut off from 
the world, here they need no one and live in 
splendid isolation. But just as I was to leave
a black hearse pulled up outside a gate that
slowly glided open- even the rich must die.-
Prisoners of wealth, I ought to take one of them
out one day, so he can see a bit of real life
before the somber hearse arrives.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

Poem

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Collins Avatar
June 26, 2012 at 7:56 PM
Dear Edgar Allen Hansen. A little like the masque of the red death. emily dickinson
Hansen Avatar
June 27, 2012 at 2:10 AM
thank you dear
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