Poetic Stories

Broken glass, I have seen
Brutality, a cup of tea
With morning paper, rape and murder;
Soiled dresses,
Carried in a body bag
Lump of flesh or extinguished ember?

Processions, protests and promises,
Cycles of delusions?
Or rebirth of a dead conscience
Walking on a tightrope?
Your life, I have seen
Always on ledges.
Friend or damned foe?
I can’t tell.
Disguise or Messiah?
Time will tell or not?
No one has the answer.