They said they had to **** my dreams
because I didn't have enough zeroes.
In other words, Mr. Doe, you were
                     lied to by your heroes;
money isn't everything,
but not having it is being invisible.
You can work sixty hour weeks,
but only earn ways to be miserable.

My parents paying four-fifty, monthly
-- which is not a lot of money; we had
to eat out of cans and delude ourselves
into thinking it was funny. Sorry, Does;
                              sorry for your woes --
but America is the big hunter, and your
                            death is how it grows.

We were not equal; no account because
                   we had no account. Asked by
our family members if we bought junk
                      in a large amount. I'm sorry
to disappoint myself -- but I
                                         cannot afford
                                                   to lose.
I am the result of a flawed America
                                     that has learned
                                                to abuse.

I see
the timorous beggar hand
out for his next
hit
drink
satisfaction

an infant alone while
his mom ***** a stranger
for diapers

the man glowing
after he killed the lion
he has ten giraffes
on his wall already

the fireman needing to
start a fire to fight

the mailman how
onerous his deed
to go crazy
m-16

the machines taking
over
Id's as Ip addresses
and innocence

so far removed
from any  semblance
to reality

listening to the news
one really gets the blues

in all their great meetings
    after cordial greetings
world leaders disagree
    for one reason or other

seems they don’t really bother
‘bout what should be their goals

    not to save their own souls
    but the folks in our world

the children all curled
    with pain in their belly
civilians burned dead
    with gasoline jelly

the women attacked for
    (a lack of) their clothing
as if there were nothing
more important than keeping
some men from their peeping

but what really matters
are the people in tatters
who flee from bombed homes
in despair and have come
    to realize
that their possible demise
does not affect those
who’d rather smell a rose
than seriously bother
about the fate of an other

tragedy unfolds every day
yet it holds little sway
in the news of the powers
that makes sure that ours
is different from theirs

until that dream sours
we need to write some
more encouraging verse

The leaves sway in the wind,
While the setting sun highlights the trees delicate tones,
With its pure white flowers and bright green leaves,

The spring flowers have already bloomed and gone,
Such as mother nature  intended it to be,
Yet one tree has remained with a full bloom,

While among it lay the burned remains of its brothers and sisters,
So delicate,
So alone,

The rays of light are just strong enough,
This tree that stands has become a symbol of hope for what remains of humanity,
A white flag in the horizon,

This lone tree stands at the centre,
The centre of no man's land,
With smoke and bullets
This tree stands among a desolate unforgiving landscape,

Today the last of humanity will complete it's goal,
This tree will be the last of what once was,
The only living thing on planet earth,

In the future this tree will stand,
It alone has the greatest responsibility,
To spread its seeds to rebuild mankind,
The tree accepts this responsibility,

But mother nature nods her head,
"No more."
The tree will never bloom again and never shed it's seeds,

The tree begins to drop its seedless pure white petals,
The weightless petals gently reach the dirt without a sound,
Yet the weight of a single petal landing has sent shock waves around the empty world,

This is truly the end.

The city sounds of ordered chaos, the constant wave of people crossing back and forth like a human tide. Strangers cut in and out of their tiny groups and barely miss colliding. Honks and bleats hasten the crowds pace as they race to cross the road. Some people stare at their phones, others watch the road but no one looks directly at another human being. Somewhere, near here and in-between there just off to the side a stranger sits mumbling, barely coherent.

“Watch me.”

The age lines run so deep into his skin that they might as well be built in. White stubble paints a drawn slightly sunburnt face. Deep dark blue eyes scan the city life for some unknown relief.
A red line catches his eyes, followed by a childlike voice singing playfully. “Watch me mommy.”

Tiny matchbox cars race around a shallow hole. The little cars cross dips and dirt ramps increasing the young boy’s excitement, as he mimics his favorite show. They crash into a partially exposed root. “Brrckkkeeech bccccch.”A fake explosion sounds. Dusk begins to fall as the cars settle into their makeshift cereal box garage. Smiling and dusty the boy crosses the small road, then the tiny parking lot, and comes home.

Long ***** white hair falls messily across the man’s worn face. All but a few awkwardly placed teeth are gone. Some are yellow while others are darker and rotting. His breath reeks. The emaciated figure feels the cramps of hunger pains. A brown speckled haze clouds his vision, followed by a slight coldness and dizziness creeping over his body.

“Watch me.”

Cardboard swords clash in a titanic battle of good versus evil.  Until the young victor jumps upon his sawhorse stead. A yowl of pain sounds as his tiny sac is smashed. The pain jolts upwards and inwards causing temporary paralysis. Thin legs scrape the wooden brace dragging chips of paint down with him as he falls off his fake saddle. The victor is defeated by pain. A few seconds later the internal pain passes and he is up and at it again, running straight for a large tree. At the last second he swerves barely avoiding a painful collision. In his mind a red cape swooshes behind him as he flies off to save metropolis.

The summer heat draws pit stains on the old man ***** orange tee. The neckline is stretched and has an almost circular pattern of moisture. Barely able to move, his sick stench draws the attention of flies. Bugs buzz by almost as frequently as strangers walking by.

“Watch me.”

Tears fall from the tiny child eyes, as he stumbles in pain. A deep **** runs red with lines of falling blood. His mother picks him up and carries him to the neighbor’s car. She whispers soft word of reassurance. The tears eventually stop.

The man clenches his chest. Pain permeates his being. His breath is lost. He stumbles falling harshly against the cold grey cement sidewalk. Tears fall. He reaches for strangers pleading weakly for their assistance. A foot smashes against his left side, causing more pain to flame up; while forcing him to edge of the sidewalk. The crowd keeps moving.
A stranger snarls “get out of the way you ***.”

“Watch me.” The old man whispers as he recalls his mother’s warmth. Soft kisses planted on his forehead. Sitting in the dark living room safely snuggled next to his mother as a scary storm rages violently against a small house.

“Watch me.” He cries. His voice, obscured by the city, fades and is forgotten.

As we have conflicts with others,
ISIS,
North Korea,
Russia,
And we give a ***** look to Muslims,
We of the far left with a "pure heart" call this
"Islamophobia"
The religious, racist, white supremacist,
Right wing thugs, unconscious, judgemental, ill-hearted, and blind people who say
"Death to all Muslims"
These people who are disgusted by the thought of having a Muslim neighbor,
These people are just as blind as the Germans were when their Jewish neighbors were taken from their homes,
What would we do if we got rid of all the Muslims in America,
Would we put them into camps,
"Refugee camps",
That's what we'd call them,
Secretly behind closed doors,
People would go missing,
Us the people who believe ourselves as saviours of the Jews,
Would **** their neighbors,
Nor would we care.

A pierced spirit remains
Brought low but prideful
Judgement of myself
Without any self-value

Pangs of hatred stir
And of sorrow lost
Execution of soul
A shell without purpose

How utterly I have been broken
Oh! Faith has been vanquished!
An enemy has ravaged my heart
Decrepit and crippled ruins remain

There is no more hope
I am blind with pain
I no longer know my way
Loss is all there is