Lee Webber Poems

What is it?
What is it that sends us to the outside of a party,
To rummage amongst the social discrimemities, the dregs, the abandoned.
To dwell within the depths of our mind,
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HELP, HELP! People are dying in here.
A makeshift shelter crafted from the fallen remains of broken homes cannot play fact to the torture we’ve endured.
A young woman, cradles her screaming child, embracing her fear as she clutches to what’s left.
The air runs thick with an unpleasant taste, as nurses scramble to heal the incurable.
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