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Feb 2018
A feeling.
A burst of light.
A desperation.
A cry for help.
A hint of joy.
A ray of hope.
A sadness...

Haggard men in tattered clothing
On the concrete sandbars
Of the great black stone
Rivers.
Thirsty.  Starving.
"Thank you and God bless!"

Can you help me?
Do you care?

Pastor sits in his wooden box.
On your knees in your
Private prison.
Pass the collection plate.
Glory,  hallelujah!

Can you help me?
Do you care?

High school kids shoot ******.
One long row of
Slack bodies.
Deep nods.
Where am I? What am I doing here?

Can you help me?
Do you care?

A new government,  built on
Bad decisions.
For the money,  of the moneyed.
Blinding white hair,  trading blood
For precious oil...
"We, the people of the United States..."

Can you help me?
Do you care?

A sadness.
A desperation.
A cry for help.
A burst of light.  
A hint of joy.
A ray of hope.
A feeling...
I don't remember exactly when i wrote this one.  Sometime last year.
Kris Fireheart
Written by
Kris Fireheart  33/M/Houston, Texas
(33/M/Houston, Texas)   
349
 
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