Wrecking Ball
A wrecking ball waves
At the quiet street below
I watch riveted
From behind the protesters
Trying to feel their passion
The impact echoes
a street no longer quiet
Sounds of destruction
And an old woman's soft cries
Under a looming, grey cloud
A wrecking ball still
The crowds underneath scatter
I pretend to care
As the old woman wipes tears
And the director yells, "CUT!"
By:Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, February, 10. 2012
for Twisted Minds contest
Honorable mention
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2012
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