seventy seven

never before
have i had such
a clear account
of the bastards
reigning in
scrambling to
save their careers
as children
and the elderly
sit in silence
waiting for help
and the only
weapon i have
is my words
is my frustration
as i huddle
in the car
shivering from
the sorrow of
being one of
the forgotten
being one of
the lost souls.

seventy seven hours
under the ice
but if you look
you can see
my middle finger
with a blue nail
waving my lack
of surrender.

they cannot break us
they can only hope
we die before we get
our frozen hands
around their pig throats.


8 thoughts on “seventy seven

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