the new world wasn't always a world of hope

The faces turned,
gaping, aching,
that smell, that fastidious smell.
Creeping in, turning.

They flinched at that familiar sound
the rottenness of life.
darker, beggar, killer.
Take me home.

Salvation, rescue, the only hope
Miserable wretches.
Their only hope, a stage.
Their performance equals their wage.

Puke, wretch and urine
this is their companion
even the gulls overhead
are scared away.

this thing, this opening,
this wooden plank removed.
Into harsh sunlight,
entry into Their New World


Submitted: June 22, 2007

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Comments

matmoo

quite bemusing but brilliant and beautiful!

matmoo :)

Fri, June 22nd, 2007 12:37pm

Author
Reply

thank you. Glad you liked it

Fri, June 22nd, 2007 5:54am

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