462000
16
a story awaits to be told
like nature awakes & unfolds
pulling back the curtains
and opening up the blinds
seeing into other people’s lives
stimulating conversations
over a steaming hot cup of
wake up and fly right after
a long trying to get by night
everything inside appears
to be alright on the surface
but deep inside someone is hurting
choking on truth without blurting
if only linoleum floors could talk
to tell how many have walked
and crawled across the
checkered buffed shine
pickling spice and spilled brine
white stucco with gold outline
12 noon bells ringing like a
choir of angels singing
keeping children in the dark
playing all day long in the park
dogs bark at strangers
impending doom and danger
where cookie jars are filled
there are no unpaid bills
still someone in side has killed
with a brick and stick and a
shovel to cover it up
It's hard to talk with a
spoon of ice cream in your mouth
sweet bribes that hide
the foul smell of sinful bloodlines
those with too much pride
white collar colored crimes
stuffed pillowcase
tucked in a fireplace
bound with a shoelace
who did it, it's too late
in a china cabinet
written in gold on a plate
from which no one ate
a child should stay
in a child's place
elbows off the table
hands clasped together
and say your grace
much before your time
to shine the brass locket
of the one who carried
one smooth stone in a pocket
thumbprints made with black ash
no waste to burn in the trash
pot roast turns into good hash
and a good story turns into cash
