Untitled Poem by Justin Kopp

That look in the old man's eye
Gave a reference to my past:
His sunken face holds the future of our children
As the white knuckles of time
Hold strong
Under the weight of the world
The sands create beaches on which the waves call home

Hourglass figures dot the landscape
With pretty dresses and high heels
While broken fingers point them out
To the gaudy audience of adolescents
With roots growing in polluted soil