Inflicted Wounds Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

That which once mattered.
Has now been torn and tattered.
And scattered around chatted about.
By the ones who thought it fun.
To do their misdeeds.
Publicly to do them done.
With themselves now in need.
To stop their own painful bleeding.

That which once mattered.
To keep valued and maintained.
No longer remains its worth to treasure.
And kicked like dirt to sit.
On a curb awaiting,
With other garbage.
For the trash man to pick it up.

As if a ritual.
And a purpose to serve,
What many have come to believe...
'Others' deserve.
Yet,
Those who have done their self righteous kicking.
Are the same ones left observed,
Licking their own inflicted wounds.