I’m Hollow

hollow as an unfertilized egg,
with nothing but the yolk-sac inside,
hollow as an unmarked grave, where some forgotten
soldier laid down to rest after he gave everything

he had when he was alive. Hollow as autopsied bodies
after the organs have been removed. There’s nothing
behind the slats. They’re stuck together by heat and
dust as most things are that never see the light. I’ve tried

to bring them to life. I’ve placed them neatly arranged
in kind homes, gave them a name, prayed and
hoped. And one or two of them out of the many
thousands got a little attention. For that I’m grateful for.