Sovereign authorities drink their wine
and puff cigars in secret rooms
while the masses they shepherd
languish in poverty;
favored with surfeit,
they watch paupers
starved of care
via Daily Prompt: Proxy
The skeletons slink
back to their crypts
as the bats and the witches
cancel their flights;
the air grows cooler and more crisp
as pumpkins transition
from jack-o’-lanterns to pies.
Autumn lingers a while longer,
stripping the trees of their
and redressing the faded viridian grass
with a coarse browned carpet–
Winter’s arrival is fast approaching,
but Autumn’s company is savored
while it lasts.
virtue . . .
via Daily Prompt: Prefer
a wasted opportunity.
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Hush. Do you hear it?
Silence pleads with deaf ears,
begging for salvation
in soundless screams;
she weeps in solitude
as blind eyes overlook
what they deem invisible
and hardened hearts despise
what they deem unworthy.
Each day she suffocates a little more
in the deafening discord,
longing to feel valued and vital again.
Note to Readers: This piece contains descriptors of violent physical abuse, mental and emotional abuse, and allusion to sexual abuse/assault. Read at your own discretion.
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They live in our houses,
They work with us
and are integral to our
we bequeath them with titles:
Grandmother – Mother – Daughter
Sister – Aunt – Niece – Cousin
Wife – Girlfriend – Best Friend
However there are others
who see them as less
and reduce them to nothing
but objects for the amusements of
things to be rated and taken apart,
drained and damaged,
thrown against walls and onto floors,
then discarded when the novelty fades
and threatened into conformity with
authority and deceit.
First and foremost
these women are people,
and many are
Too often they fall between the cracks.
They get lost in the shell game
abusers love to play
(Shuffle the cups, where’s the ball? You lose, sucker!)
and we can’t keep letting them down,
letting them suffer alone,
weeping and bloody in the
indignity of darkness.
No more silence.
No more secrets.
No more denial.
No more intimidation.