And then it happens
Walking outside
Feeling the charcoal
The smell like fire and I begin burning
Like I am in a living hell where at one time
I try to follow instinct and dodge
The horror around
But not all people have to
Not all people want to
The pain of souls
The heat we all feel
The pain of the stressed minds
The ache of confusion in interaction
The fear and anxiety
Which will complete every day
Willpower dies when
Everyone has to think before they act
We will get through this
But death is a polite friend so close
We all fry under the heat
Of this future of incredible selfishness
And those who are kind
Burn the most

About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
This entry was posted in poem, poems, poetry, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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