I’ve seen cities that
bleed.
Unpaved streets drowned
in desperate mothers,
starving fathers,
and crying children crammed
into
cardboard cradles.
I’ve watched
grandfathers swallow fistfuls
of earth,
grandmothers delivering rivers
across deserts, and infants conquering
mountains for education.
I’ve felt the cry of
an unfed child
drinking crates of
unfiltered water.
I’ve felt the
parasites in my veins,
the disease in my bones.
I’ve felt the pain of
a mother
clinging to a dying
child,
until her tears caress
only a memory.
I’ve seen them with
my eyes sewn closed.
I’ve heard them
bleeding in my sleep.
I’ve felt them every
night since.
And now you stand
before me,
arms stained with memories
of needles,
teeth eroded with the
footprints of chemicals,
begging for just one
more
notch in your
syringe.
I’ve now seen a
kingdom
paved in gold,
chasing illusions.
A population, more focused
on the next hit
than plate on their table.
I see paved streets
littered with
unconscious bodies
and paychecks smoked
right down to the
filter.
We keep saying
there’s a crisis,
that more children
clutter sewage grates
than desks in a
classroom, and yet
I see no solutions.
I see a world that
has everything,
convinced it has
nothing, but wanting
anything. I see men dipped
in diamonds,
clambering over
tombstones huddled
in cardboard houses, unwilling
to gift
even a second look.
I see a population
hooked on chemicals,
chasing the next hit
like crippled children
chased tourist busses
across a city.
I see a greed
polluting our roads,
the way parasites pollute
unfiltered water
wells.
I feel the lack of
hope,
the loss in faith, the
absence of pride,
the same way I felt the
grief
of a mourning mother
cradling
a colicked child.
