An open drain- large, unrestrained;
Reeking of clamor unexpressed
I hear a woman’s cry
There is devastation and despair.
It is a time of birth
And an emerging murmur of an end
A new-born floats down the gutter
The residue of society’s sins
More blood, more death.
Does poverty justify it all?
The Gutter
Unknown | 15:59 | | 1 comments
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1 comments:
first time on your blog.........You write poems quite well.........
Keep Writing
ME here
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