The peace and quiet world masking the truth trying to be heard. These woeful souls calling out in tainted blades of fresh blood from a young school girl. An empty bottle in the middle of the road, bleeding vomit, footsteps lead away, and a gun begins to fall from a hand at the hands of death. You look at the graves that surround you in the graveyard. But then with unsought thoughts you think what has happened to this world? Have the streets always been paved in handprints dipped in blood leading to the truth? A body of someone who died inside and now lies at our feet listening to cries the unheard cries for help from a young school girl.
Note: Originally posted on Friday September 28, 2012 on my former In and Out of Depression blog.
No comments:
Post a Comment