Feel the pain of missing platitudes, promises broken to ourselves, believers of truthful prevarications transmitted to those deemed surplus. Banished across tracks inside redlined areas. Bled dry, supply side economics feed a mechanized appetite for the war on thugs, throwing rocks from conquered territories. Gardens made of smashed green glass. Post industrial relics of riots and picket lines stuck on pause. Mannish boys struggle to be a carbon copy....
Coalhouse
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Books Written By Poet
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Aching Phantom limb Syndrome
CATEGORY
life
Views: 407
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COMMENTS
love_supreme says: D*mn, this poem is on point. |
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RonnieL says: Word! |
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Coalhouse says: Thank you for the comment. It makes me put it down harder! |
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LP45 says: This is a great write coalhouse. Dug every line. Especially the last one. |
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