I slept for a week
while the world around me died.
Inside, so did I.
Self-righteous lips pray
for those trapped on sinking ships—
Regardless of cost
good advice springs up like weeds.
No truth is required.
Souls have become cheap
worth less than the USD—
We are all equal
laid head to toe in mass graves
united in death…
Enter PoetryNook.com’s free weekly poetry contest
for cash prizes. Previously published work welcome.