Underpass Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Underpass

Rating: 3.0


Crouching beggars stud the underpass
Like sprouting fungii

Their teeth clack in their gums
Spaced out with smack
Pus streaks the colourful palette
Of their sores

Hurry Hurry your frantic heart’s
A bird, dashing its wings against
The cage of darkness

The round eye of the sun
Leads you out to safety
Your fortunate life

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