Home » poetry » Today’s Short #Poem 317

Today’s Short #Poem 317

I’ve seen nomads in the desert
who’ll cut you down
like cactus
for water
and crooks and the mad
who’ll try your door to open
and steal your eyes,
put smoke in your brain,
break you like charred paper,
and you can cry out to the sky
to please, this time,
don’t let it just be me.
You look to the eyes of strangers.
Chattering children play,
share their sweets.
Will they smell the blood?

Ashley Bovan


One thought on “Today’s Short #Poem 317

  1. Pingback: Today’s Short #Poem 317 | Ash2

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