a poem by Joshua Brown
Lonely, walking down this boulevard, talking to people
Living purposeful and with power. Not the power of truth.
Named and naming.
While those around me ask who they are.
I speak.
Sounds come out, beautiful, eloquent to my ears.
The vultures watch hungry for more ideas on which to feast.
A shot rings out, ear drums burst into flames.
Flurries of rotten corpses shuffle as the individual...
I'm alone.
They were not human, they were desperate.
But they were human and the mirror they shone back on me.
Pure evil.
Where was that man who asked his own name?
Balfour.
#poem #poetry #freeverse
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