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guy scutellaro
Poems
Nov 2023
Felt Tip Pen Black Ink
heavy rain from a darkening sky
and buildingsΒ Β fall
no one knows what will be left
running down the nowhere
where dreams die
on a metal tray
at the hospital morgue
trouser leg pushed up
the search for black ink
and a child's name
begins
perhaps the arm
the hip
the back?
and the children plead,
lie to me,
tell me,
i won't die,
today
and the silent screams
are left in an eternity of why?
foul and bitter hearts
will prevail
on both sides,
this is the poetry of death
Written by
guy scutellaro
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