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The pulse of freedom

There is a sight I hold dear. A misty morning, a grey veil, green hills in the background, lush and abundant. On the fore, at about 100 feet...

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Beneath a broken roof

A broken roof overhead,
All I have;
All I can afford,
Rest for night under
The starlit sky;
Huddled warmth
For the wintery woes;
Rain running showers
For the bath,
And
Baking sunshine
For the light;
No bag of pearls
To please my dame;
A handful of dough
All I make;
My toil is hard
But
Then its all I know.
Skin is rough,
Caked up too;
Clothes are drenched,
Damp with sweat;
Body,
Reeking of many
Repulsive odours
But
In my heart,
I am clean and pure.
You look at me
From
Your costly car.
I wonder,
What you see through that glass,
Tinted darker than the night?
You snub at that begging child;
His touch smearing
You shimmering car.
You roll up window,
And drive away.
I give him a ride
On
My rickety cart,
Thinking all the while,
Is that all you have,
All you can afford?

Linking with VisDare 48 : Beneath

2 comments:

  1. Hi, I've arrived here from Blogging from A to Z April Challenge. I like your use of imagery.
    Suzanne W. Skeels
    swskeels@blogspot.com.

    ReplyDelete

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