Untitled Word of the day Poem #24

Set back

my home

my prison

at the end of the road

watching 

every day

as live people walk by

shuffle by

run by

afraid of the voices calling.

Vicious

murderous

we rove through these grounds

reaching for the living

as they pass.

Signs of the cross

muttered prayers

crossing the road

flick the evil eye

all in attempt to stay saved

from this mealy yard.

Eyes vacant

lips creased in sneers

wandering this death spot

forever attached to this sin.

Derelict

stones falling

rubble abounds.

Once this was a hospital.

Once a school.

Once an insane asylum.

Now blooded

blackened

ruins 

unsanctified ground

rovers we all be.

Murderous Fools.

Revenge on the lip

curse on the sky

forever tied to these broken bones.

Feb. 26/19

Photo by Anthony Reungère on Unsplash