Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 12
my hands are *****
as is my mind
as is my record
my hands are covered in earth

he tripped
not once, not twice
promised the wrong
he slipped
stayed down

they made sure he'd stay down
taken from his son
his life, his place
his right
to watch the forsythias bloom
when they spring with yellow and hope

your boy is coming for you
coming to get you out
take you home
tuck you in
throw away your bottles
as they scream for you from the south

They grant him one wish
facing his fate in a cell
and he wants to see the forsythias bloom
and one blossom
blinks her eyes
with freedom
Written by
Marco  22
Please log in to view and add comments on poems