diaries on the run

diaries on the run
blood of the innocent child
running thick and grey
in the steer me not guts
of the unholy I will kill you
for looking at my mother

this is the day of dark reckoning
says he with the biggest gun

slow to wake me up
finds the day shredded
by a suicide squad

elements of sharp incision
move in putrid flesh
there is no other one

I can see no improvement

day pollute night
cream curdle and shrink away
where street children starve
for the glue right
to live outside the law




Poetry by Bob
Read 630 times
Written on 2017-02-08 at 19:16

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