Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2021
I said something about the neighborhood with the houses in disrepair.
That neighborhood with the smaller houses down by the factories and what is left of them.
The remark leaping off my tongue.
And as I stood there by someone half as young, I found myself unforgiven in my own eyes for being so cruel.
A proclaimed humanitarian, me, finds still hypocrisy in my soul for all to see.
Michael T Chase
Written by
Michael T Chase  40/M/Earth
(40/M/Earth)   
474
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems