| By Bob Dougherty On every weekend of the year, Our young needlessly die. This doesn't make the News At Eight. Why don't you wonder why? The President of this here land, Attorney General too, What of Homeland Security? They’re all hiding from view. Where are the marching preacher men, And N double A C P? No one cries to stop these killings, They're Black on Black, you see. | |
|
0 Comments
By Bob Dougherty
Local paper and I turn the page obits hit me before I can look on and a photo of a young person grabs my eyes I mean 30 35 smiling why why I scream silently as the obit drags me in so curious so sad damn this obit as I read on it's all wrong 89 89 I feel lied to that's not what the face in the photo told me why where is the aged face the life stories written on the visage of time is there shame of life of looks of age of wisdom traded away for an unwritten slate thought more glamorous 89 and nothing on the face the face the blank face stories yet to live deleted leaving just the print in print by print a thousand words but no picture not the beauty of a complete life why hide the lines scars and furrows that tell the story written by life on life of life for life to read in one glance of life lived not typed in a thousand words by a word processor By Bob Dougherty
Blue sky soft breeze, Blue Angels grace the Bay. Blue waves sparkle in sun. Blue on blue chase blues away. |
Writer
Bob Dougherty is a poet and writer living in Tiburon, CA Archives
January 2020
Categories |
RSS Feed
