Monday 24 June 2019

Infliction




Blades that cut through
A dessert storm
Shifting and collecting
Heated and warm

Pain it’s infliction
Rises the temperature
All that surrounds them
Is poverty
The poor

Isolated broken
Divided and torn
Born into disaster
This cannot be healed
By a plaster

Lips that are dry
From thirst
Water no where
Rain fall
Does anyone care

Eyes that mirror
Life’s hardship
Kneeling and praying
Through the despair
Does anyone care



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