Worth Tears

Elderly imprisoned in caskets of despair,
dark horror shadows and conveyor belt care.
“Will they come, will they ever come?”
hopeless hoping.
Shut mouths make no moan yet,
hearts broken in pieces
and compounded by the dread of tomorrow.
England 2016:
Is it the sausage machine
that is overloaded
or the empty hearts
of consortiums that manufacture Hell?
What a cruel time to take everything away?

16-year-old boy retreats to his bedroom covers the duvet over his head and shakes in a paroxysm of self-hatred. He has tried everything to be accepted but, he is different and; “Different,” is not ‘cool’! Tired of the jibes about his face and his lack of physical equipment, he despairs and shovels the pills down his throat till his heart stops beating.

Thousands on the treadmill of the commuter train lines, playing snakes and ladders with their lives, learning to lie convincingly and stab competitors in the back with a smile on their face.

Career professionals that leave conscience in the bottom draw of plush city offices………. The tramp vomits in the gutter and the casualties bleed, the kings and queens of the magic media decide what is ‘news’? But who cries, who cares, is anything worth tears anymore?

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