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22nd. Street Agony Silent echoes reverberating - the pounding my head succumbs to. Emptiness crushing my life. Claustrophobic, I flee and leave behind myself. Smothered in drug-laden smoke, I lie pregnant, unable to grasp the Eternal Life. Fate extends a lifeless hand. I reach in frustration: a bottle, a drink, a sleepless stupor. Enveloped in folds of darkness, I call for America: "Hold me in your bosom my country - I am your American, too!" |
Additional Notes:
This poem was written after my meeting a very poor woman who tried so hard to raise her family
in a shady part of Tampa, Fl. It is being published by Poetry.com (I had submitted it before
joining The Poetic Link).
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