Desperations Fleeting Hope

When I close my eyes,
Their faces I see.
Burning into mine.
Nameless faces,
Haunting me.

Images of past
Images still yet to be,
Images tangible in my visions eye,
Burning so deeply,
Consuming me.

Faces of children;
Boys, little girls.
Their eyes scream at me
Staring, so deep into mine.

As time ticks by, their cries I hear
It echoes through my soul
Echoes of torment, despair.
Echoes of searching.
Echoes of desperations
Fleeting hope.

Even when I dream,
I see them standing there,
Screaming.
Their blood stained skin screaming
injustice.

Exploitation.

How do I live in the tension
Of my soul and body?
How do I hear and see their cries,
Yet remain the same?

How do you live, when deaths stench reeks through the streets?
How do you walk on blindly, when their eyes you have met?
How do I eat, when I’ve heard starvations screams?
How can I sleep when I know they sell their bodies for another mans debt?

Their screams may not be tangible,
To me as I live half way across the globe,
Yet forever branded is my memory.
Forever seared is my perception of mankind.

Ruined. I am ruined.
Their eyes stare so
Deep into my soul,
Ardent.

Ruined. I am ruined
Their cries scream at me,
such deep resounding in my soul.
Burning.

They are real.
Not a figment of emotions dream.
No…they are real
Faces tangible, cries audibly
Sing.

The earth goes on spinning,
Their cries resound throughout histories time.
The earth goes on spinning.
A living hell, their souls lay
dying.

We go on walking blindly
to the blood stained tyranny
That screams.
We go on walking blindly
Turning a deaf ear
To the screams of
Injustices living corpse

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3 Comments

Filed under My Poetry

3 responses to “Desperations Fleeting Hope

  1. ashleyannkim

    You are getting better at free writing!
    It’s absolutely amazing…I wish you were here..
    It’s snowing, and I only imagine us sitting in front of a warm fireplace with a ceiling high window near us… sippin’ on coffee & chai, drowning together through the depths of poetry and endless thoughts.
    Ah! I am remembering that one time when you “hurt” your ankle…or should I say more like a bug bite! ha and I came over and we were spending endless hours talking about our hearts and zeal for simplicity…. Where has the time gone?
    A part of me misses KC…but I would say only because of you! We have so much to talk about… I miss you dearly, your like one of my only girl firends and I cherish you!
    I still haven’t heard back from you for a skype date. I love and miss you!

  2. Zach

    brilliant work, but tragic subject.

  3. randi wallace

    so powerful mary

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