Bare Feet Poem by Alex Vega

The sizzle of the hot summer sun on the black, rought tar brings out
the red on the bottom of typical bare feet turning on themselves to the 'tak' 'tak' 'tak' of authoritie's footsteps on their path to 'horrifying cleansing'. 'Splash' theirlittle drums hear and scurry to their escape, frantically glancing from left to right only to freeze in time to a slam not to far away, yet again the 'tak' 'tak' of the little one's mum advances.