Thirty Years of Lynchings

October 21, 2007
By
whoosh.

slowly swinging in the gust.

murmurings of souls that cannot stay.

whoosh.

dead men that cannot walk.

their haunted faces linger while they sway.

whoosh.

slow smells of rotting flesh.

hardened hearts that cast them away.

whoosh.

listen. can you hear them?

singing the songs they can no longer say.

whoosh.





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