Looking out the Window.

The feeling of red water running down my back, and the growing pains seems to re-rack.

Relay.

The tension on the streets, bodies lying on the floor like a slab of meat.

They say.

While a mother’s cry heard miles away, the murderer’s stench is here to stay.

Communicate.

A heart that ails can only see evil to prevail. And a child’s eyes full with hope for tomorrow, will yet again find out there’s another day of sorrow.

And we pray.

The extortionist comes out during the day, while the embezzlers’ fight to keep turf in dismay.

Articulate.

As the tension rises, life is full of surprises desensitized by the iniquities of life almost seems closer to blithe.

State.

“Desensitivity”…happens to some, accepted by most, uncanny phenomena by me.