Saturday, September 1, 2012



They walk along the sidewalk
Head down, shoes shuffling
Not really looking
Not really noticed
A worn out grayness
Blending into the common
Background of life that swirls by.
Once in a while a kid notices
Or a middle aged woman
Will shy away nervously.
A mother will pull at a child’s hand
Young teens will hold their noses
Mockingly, laughing
Little knowing
How fragile is that white line
The one that they think
They can smoke or shoot
Invincibility in youth
Not seeing in the mirror of life
How frail is that rail
That keeps them on the path
Parents hounding, nagging
Ribbons of light lifting.
The grays walk by.
Haunted by their past
Their present a crack pipe
Holds them prisoner
In the gray, darkness swirling.
Waiting to suck them down
Into the depths of hell again.

August 30, 2012
Joe Robinsmith

No comments:

Post a Comment