there are fears woven into those tightly braided strains of hope for this new day strains still moist from early morning tears tears that arrived long before the sun could warm her face a face resting on a pillow with noxious memories of a stranger’s grasp a cold hand in the night the unshaven face against hers a blade against the throat and then only the pain
now the space between words is empty promises no longer echo off the wall of excuses given for lifeless souls lining the city streets and rural valleys your once prophetic stares into the future are no more than a pathetic song from a mockingbird willing to change its tune for whomever or whatever serves its purposes of self-interest your worries for the rights of others were so damn touching how you emoted concern about the brutal behavior of foreign leaders while at home children go without healthcare elderly die hungry homeless fathers and mothers struggle to feed their children yes you are so damned with concern