Nose and Ire

In the oppressive atmosphere of your artificial concern you have finessed
from your many forays into me me me
like a vocal exercise for your self absorption
primal screamer
I’ve come to accept my losses without giving anymore away
The tragedy is always found
held in the paralyzed hands
of wanton stupidity
that now bores me to tears
Survival isn’t a question of cunning or might
no
it’s something so foreign to you
it’s a question
of someone else’s
basic human right
to be free

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Author: valo

I am a poet, writer and activist with a special interest in human rights for children and women as well as the elimination of poverty worldwide. If you read this today, feed someone locally for me will you? Drop off a non perishable food item at the food bank nearest you and consider yourself hugged. Thank you!

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