The rain crawls from the dingy rooftops to the mucky floor By the house where mothers wash their hair in a bucket by the door On a street where meat is chopped and served in the open air With children wearing shirts that are filthy with a tear The clothing lines are hanging in the alley off the side They stare through time and space as I pass them in a stride The heat beats down increasingly about half past noon The shops are opening, the people coming soon Meat they hold their lives to, meat on wooden stick Meat we hold our eyes from, meat that makes us sick And sweat drops down from straw of hair, down face wrinkled and brown And floods the dirty rivers on the pavements in this town The darkness slips itself around the corpse of foggy sky Where sun is held a captive, though days are long and dry And here arrives the flowers in hands of bleeding girls Who look upon the suits and ties on travelers’ of the world Who’ve seen but less than them, though they’ve been everywhere But blink not once to notice the emotion in their stare
Posted on: Wed, 31 Jul 2013 15:36:43 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015