Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2016
there were tears,
many, they
flowed regularly
from
porcelain bowls
down drains
I'd hoped
would separate
the pain, cleanse
them, make them
water again,
free to roam
amongst
their own in salt
lake streams, banks
bursting at
the seams with
ripe green,
so different to here
where all they've
ever known was
fear, housed behind
eyes, between ears,
counting each
shallow breath
like they were
anticipating
their death.
katie
Written by
katie  Liverpool
(Liverpool)   
399
     Akemi, ---, ---, ---, the Sandman and 24 others
Please log in to view and add comments on poems