Let us write about broken hearts instead

And I wonder … in this cold morning when asphalt
is wet … why is a majority of people nothing but a threat?

Lady knocked on my doors last night … old and crippled
she was cleaning … and she did that to afford eating …

she kept our hallway shiny and fragrant, and she asked
nothing but bread … but you turned her into a beggar instead

without a thought you took her the only way she found
to earn money … because she is crippled and not dressed lovely …

One night I heard those juicy voices sealing her destiny,
your gossip, and lies … will be the reason if in cold she dies …

but in your distasteful clothes, offensive manners, and
cheap perfume … you can barely see further than from your costume…

your exclusiveness deserves an agency that sucks blood
from young girls in uniforms … that fits your sadistic norms …

and lady knocked on my doors last night … old and crippled
condemned to beg … but yes, you are right … let us write love poems instead

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s