?

Log in

II

Motherland
All along the broken city streets
Sit the men of old days
Laughing, smoking, wheezing
Dull yellow skin tanned a rich golden-brown
Tanned from a lifetime of relentless work
Stained, ancient teeth, protruding
When they shout
Thin, wizened fingers gesturing madly
Old men hobbled by a forgotten
Revolution
Chatting the same as he wanders
Aimless, witless, goalless
He was a man, once

Comments

January 2008

S M T W T F S
  12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
2728293031  
Powered by LiveJournal.com