“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”

Martin Luther King, Jr

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Their World

 The broken glass on which my thoughts
Go slowly and bleeds, memories of a life
That may have been
I feels the shards in my bones

Black wounds that seethe and twist
My soul. Let me go let me go
Back from whence I came
Into the desert of the worlds
Never ceasing to inflame
The minds as they whirl through
Canyons of despair clutching
At your spirit, struggling to break free
Of the mindless terror of the fear
Of some who will remain aloof
To the world and those who need peace.

Children of the night
Go forth like rats
Leaving a ship in danger of sinking
Into the desert, running from the terror
Of the demons with four legs
Who slice and cut their way
Into the midst of chaos
That is already a thing of life.

I look into the eyes of old who are just born
Seeing the ache of a hunger not appeased
Nothing on which to feed nothing on which to sup
Misery the constant companion
Rape a daily thing and death
of a night too oft is ours to which
We will never accept as norm.


Written by Sue Bookman 03/09/10

2 comments:

Relax Max said...

A very compelling poem suzyQ.

Antônio Araújo said...

Amazing work... God bless wonderfully your life!!!

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