In The Mist Of Apathy
The grammar of silence
writes an oblivious epitaph
eroded with time.
The life hawkers roam desolate streets
bartering the legacies of their children’s
Children vomiting aborted childhood.
The ancestors no longer visit this place;
And we cannot un-ring the tolled bell.
Comments (2)
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Join free Log inCharles2
The deceivers continue to play their flutes, trying to keep the children minds confused, while they tempt fate, attempt to substitute word to the wise, with shallow lies and contemplate evasion of the wrath of the most wise
Read Charles2's poemsmlowe5
So true! Thanks for the read and enlightening feedback. Peace and Love.
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