the makings of the despear of an insain mind

here are the lost and found
the hardly breathing
the almost drowned
the weekly needing
the strongly poor
with gold and silver
but not a treasure
with crowds of friends
but alone forever

not a love
can be found
with these painted on smiles
and manicured frowns
for in disaster
we paint our names
praying we will be remembered
as in disgust –
they scream our names


8 Comments Add yours

  1. Classic NYer says:

    This is so well done… I feel like this is all of us — huddled in a crowd but alone forever… praying we will be remembered…

  2. Kay Salady says:

    I really like this piece. Thank you!

  3. Nefarious X says:

    I liked the way you poem flowed and created a sense of urgency in your words.
    Great use of imagery, nice work.

  4. love it,

    share with poets rally if you can, bless you,
    keep it up.

  5. Nicole says:

    amazing lines throughout!

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