I didn't intend on joining
Neighbourhood Watch
When I stepped onto my perch,
The elevated porch.
I spied a lad
Trying a car door
In the drive
Next to the cop's.
That's forbidden fruit
In the dark of night,
Under the slight light
Of a quarter moon.
Had I called the cops,
Would he now be homeless
By an ignominous,
Effaced father.
His pride is a tailored fit
Made from rejected rags.
His friends may post the antics
In glossolalia on FB
For all nations to read
The mark of Cain.
I didn't call.
The sin of the father
Is exposed in the sun;
Not in alleyways
Under broken street lights
Where rejection
Burns darkly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem