Tattoo Of Misery. - Poem by PHIL WINTER
Driven by hunger
The disadvantaged roam the landscape
Their presence an unwanted sight
Making folks conveniently blind.
They are the visible, invisible
Beating a tattoo of misery
The drums, their worn out bodies
Waiting for the call of death.
Stripped of dignity and sanity
Clothes they do not wear
Curses they do not hear
Reality they cannot see.
With eyes empty, staring
They come and go
To and fro
They move ahead
Walking among the living!
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You