Hands in pockets….

What of this state that we call death,
this coming of time you and I must
face it’s clear. We watch as others
young and old perish but could be
saved, my shame outweighs my fear
Why can’t we have a blind eye or turn
the other cheek, say, it’s only another
drought driven starving, no need for
us to speak.

Where are their leaders we cry slinking
away to the back of the crowd, it’s their
responsibility, we’ve done enough, and
my new X box is playing up for crying
out loud.

The morning wraps itself around you
with the terror of your skin,
your hands forgetting the way they
felt when you touched her in your dream,
you are humble in your agony and deeply
surrendered, for you have touched her
in your walking-away life, walking away like
the sky in nightfall.

x = stressed o= unstressed

I

Jeffery Dahmer killed his neighbour: flushed him (down the drain)
Ed Gein ate his mother (and) played in (her) dirty dresses
While Son of Sam with gun in hand was killing golden (retrievers)
Fisher went and ate some children: buried them in (the) barn

xo xo x o xo: x o (o o x)
x o x o xo (o) x o (o) xo xo
xo x o x o x o x o xo xo (oxx)
xo x o x o xo: xo x o (o) x

II

A lonely person stays to not be alone
No matter the pain, the hurt, the lies.
No one wants to be alone
feeling the emptiness at night,
going insane with the need to be held,
spoken to,
smiled at.

Yearning for the need.
A need to be kissed,
a need for love.
The love won't come, fooling yourself
Trickery at its best.
Deception.

Then its over, said and done.
Pure lonliness has come.
Silence at night,
creatures creeping around every dark corner,
and you just wonder why.