Bad Luck
today his house is burned
everything he has
lost in a matter of a few hours
the body of his only son
wrapped in plastic charred
there is no face of agony to see
and his chamber maid
ashed to death
a face without a hair
a skull with some flesh
the odor is incredible
how much does he owe still
to the gods?
he is drugged to sleep in the hospital
things are not that easy to swallow
bad luck, bad luck, all his friends are telling
this bad luck to each other
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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