Thursday, December 7, 2017

day THREE HUNDRED and TWENTY TWO

across miles

same age my father was on
the last day of his life
but i only feel half as dead

i have learned that
prayers are for cowards

you give them away to the starving,
                                         the raped,
the children massacred in churches,
and yet you live

you grow fat on hypocrisy
and cowardice
even as your own death approaches

i refuse to waste my time
digging a grave for someone
whose corpse is best
left for the crows

--John Sweet

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