Heat Lightning...
heat lightning...
we speak hollow words,
build hollow houses,
live hollow lives.
poverty whispers,
we turn away.
poverty shouts,
we walk away!
orphans, or bastards,
we defile our beds.
our mothers lay dying,
our fathers forgotten.
the wheel turns,
we drink, and move on.
our sisters buried,
our brothers on the street.
churches and graveyards,
flags drenched in blood.
stray dogs, lost pilgrims,
heat lightning....
and an empty cup!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
