AND THE LIVING WEEP ... Maureen Clifford © The #ScribblyBarkPoet
Beneath the dust and clutter
a constant chocolate stream of tears
washes cheeks. You can hear
the sob and wail of a million voices
echoing around the world
from the mouths of
fragile, anxious, and frightened people.
Distraught and motherless children,
confused aged, heartbroken lovers,
the injured, the maimed, the broken.
Time has no meaning here.
No northern lights brighten the skies,
only shellbursts, and flames.
The music of the glaciers doesn't play
here,
only the gurgle of water from broken pipes
and mains
washing the mingled blood of mixed races
down shattered gutters and into Mother Earth.
We bleed!
We bleed! ...
and still the living weep.
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