What the worlds become

October 14, 2009
By , Pt charlote, FL
I see a girl walking the mall
A young boy crying in the hall
A servants shadow fading with doubt
A lovely lady’s lingering about.

I see a blacksmith hard at work
At school, the original dork
And once again, a slaves cry
A blackened heart shaved with fright.

I see A girl covering bruises with lace
An old lady walking at her own pace.
A kidnapped child screaming with horror
And a spoiled little girl, wanting more
I see the hurt, deep into their eyes
I hear the wrong and symphonize their cries
I add tunes to the mockers shutters
And the chanting of the old butlers.

The raped girl, who thinks she’s alone
And the saddened boy at the jailhouse on the phone
I see the bloody road we are traveling on
And what this world is, what its become.





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