Flagrant Blatantness
The flavor of it hangs in the air.
It burns the eyes.
With no escape anywhere.
Stinging the young,
With an acceptance done.
And silencing the old.
There is nothing valued to uphold.
A flagrant blatantness has smothered.
A once meaningful process,
Now too late to recover...
From a molding that grows.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
