post epidemic
and the tallest fall to their knees
begging
for the poor to drop coins
tribal tattoos and you fit in with the rest of them
guns and grit and you can’t read a lick
look at them all holding hands alone
fear robbing the shield of hope
that used to be surrounding
surrounding now a cloak of nightmares
brushing the sky black as they speed
mane thick and shaded
mane that paints the sky
i surrender to thee’
there is no purpose to escape
unless a poet of poet’s waves a white cloth
there is no reason for me not to surrender
the white thinning
shade
grabbing
choking
the thick mane
wrapped about me
how did you grow it so?
D.e.e.L's Writing and Various Nonsense 