The sun shines on days where
children go missing and
innocent bystanders are shot and
bombs fall in the wrong place.

A woman who’s just miscarried will
pass happy new families on her way
out of a hospital where everyone
is alternately dying or being cured.

Babies are born in prison infirmaries
and Christmas has a high suicide rate.

Every smile carries past tragedy
hidden in its corners like the
sins a family would rather not discuss.

Outside my window birds sing
as I read the news and wonder
how much lower humanity can sink.


About semiblind

Bringing you stark existentialism since 1981.
This entry was posted in despair, observations, poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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