The Grannies Keep Looking for the Love Train

Ain't that big o' deal, he says.
Ain't no daddies on the block.
They're dead or doing time
In prison. Ain't too many
Mommies left. They've sold
Themselves to crack or meth
Or smack. There's only grannies
Here, and grandpas who are on
Parole, and they sit on the playgrounds'
Edges, watching us, and listening
To music from so long ago.
Ain't thugs and hookers in their
Songs. There's expectation
Of relief. At last, the white man
Spreads his arms. I guess that
Once was how it seemed, but all
Is as it was before, and hope's
Become a childish notion, one
Which only silly grannies still
Are able to believe. We live
As refugees inside a camp
Within the land the ones with
Guns have said we're not to
Leave, and kill each other,
Kill ourselves. It ain't
That big o' deal.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2018-01-05 at 03:49

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Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
This poem is very poignant and an excellent insight into life. I think it's brilliant, in your impeccable style.