Walking through the parking lots of life
observing discarded castaways floating on seas of gravel.
Protectors shown the contempt of mistreated hookers
thrown to the curbside.
Protectors covered in a soft brown layers of dust
await collection to trash heaps
or burial mounds of leaves.
Uncovering the truth
on how shabbily we treat the old and the useless.
Broken soldiers on cement fields
battle relics evoking wounds of sadness.
Weather-beaten by torrents of rain
colors faded—bleeding red, black and blue onto our streets.
The cigarette butts of our time floating down our gutters.
How we treat the things we no longer need, nor want, nor desire, nor love.
No flag burial for these message-laden pieces of cloth.
No crypt
No cremation
No respect.
Just distain.
Thumbs up:
Barack O. Mandela—This poem reminds meof famous American poets Allen Ginsberg and Walt Whitman. Perhaps publish a book of poetry.
Judy Zakarin;
Poetry put to music is a song, this is a dark piece, sing the song.—David Paulsen
Joanne Goldstein;
Ricki Dorn–Interesting twist
music is always good
poetry is always good
together they are good….always.
Perry Yaver;
John M. Misner;
Ellen Straton;
As usual—Wonderful— Elaine Braffman
Laurie Lungen Handel;
Good to read your writing.—Marieanne Holmes
Ken Mednick—Wow….is all.
