The Hole

July 11, 2015 - Poetry

A pothole.
A bump in the road or a hole down to hell?
Just one of those things
that happen in life,
Or the straw that cuts with a razor edge
And flays skin from soul?
A word?
A frown?
A curse tumbling down from uncaring mouths?
A call that never comes
from a friend
a brother
a mother.
Separation from humanity
until the human is not.
The entity is lost.
Just forgotten.
Only lonely.
Simply a hole to hell
that yesterday was once
a bump in the road.

› tags: Poetry /

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