The battered armless tire rolls on the rough sand,
Crinkling and crunching jagged glass.
The boy with his gentle eyes and hopeful smile,
A contrast to his sooty battered frame.
He spins the wheel, his laugh echoing through the haunted land,
Past the smoking rubble and the lives buried beneath.
He pays no attention to the phantom echoes of anguished cries.
Trudging on, a silhouette against the last, pale light from the west.
Robotic human beings
Stare at bright screens
Like moths to a flame
Connected to technology
Disconnected from humanity
Wolves in sheepskin
Stalking their prey
As lonely souls
Seeking love.
Face to face conversations
Become cold texts
Love and kisses
Turned into emoticons
Loved ones become strangers
Strangers become family
Newest toys of this era
The computer or television
Like an addiction to a drug
Is that to the video game,
while the cell phone flashes
Innocence stolen by technology.
Police lights; remain calm.
Bang. Seven shots.
Hysterics, tears, shouting.
Close your eyes, little brown girl.
Maintain your innocence for just one more day.
One peek. Left eye.
Blood stained shirt.
Close your eyes.
Second peek. Right eye.
Motionless body. Heartbreak.
Destroyed innocence.
Useless trial. Same verdict.
Not guilty.
The banging of a blood-soaked gavel releases the jury.
Let’s begin to heal they say.
Move on,
and brace for more sirens.
Will we make it home?
More at https://twitter.com/marceliusb.
Oh, don’t be silly,
but it’s true, so little
did I know about the real
ways of the world
thinking we all just got
along like spinning daisies
radiant in a glowing sun,
enjoying promises and love
little did I know how we let
hate run our engines
spurring and purring down
the dusty road of life.