Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2015
There are men who stoop low
While their pain builds slow
And their women clean homes
Full of dreams and wistful rooms
But still they live this hard life
Because their God told them so

He stared at a sunset nailed to a wall
Scraps of inspiration were in his hands
The envelope was white and empty
He had sent the money to foreign lands

There’s a way to survive
Even if you’re dying inside
There’s things that you know
And things that make you grow
But you will never begin
If you let someone tell you no

He never had a conversation with her
When it seemed she thought him her equal
When she was young she wanted someone else
Now she thinks she’s starring in the sequel

There was a time to remember
The bullet was in the chamber
But he didn’t take the opportunity
Though he was angry about inequality
It was why he lost her love
She could only think of him with pity

He was separated from her brown skin
And the one who once carried his son
They all had dreams of a different life
But they learned to live apart from their own
Mark Lecuona
Written by
Mark Lecuona
298
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems