deepundergroundpoetry.com
My kind, your kind
For Samhain
I hear words falling in a world
pronouncing them dead,
I watch as proud little letters
slowly burn on this modern soil
as those stay at home humans
setting up tables, their lips firmly
closed, and staying small, keep
on haunting steel and stone as
they passed down all that
once lived through them.
If you wish to believe this skin
was made to roam inside
those limited of spirits
i'm afraid you are mistaken
because my kind is not your kind,
i'm a wide eyed millennial rogue
chaotic as they come, brought
disgrace to my own, returned
from the emerald without
another person in toe
and you couldn't pin me down
if you care to accept that
kind of challenge.
My only time of rest is my body
planting itself on a roma flag
flowing endless as any river,
rooted deeper than this
colour we call blood
I look up knowing they
dance as rain falls down
on my bones, as I live in
freedom they fought
for us to thrive on
so i'll keep walking,
til guilt hears my footsteps
along these pavements,
they are wheels made
to keep on turning
until hands finally
hang themselves,
on rusty yellow
stars in night
skies guiding
us all back
home.
Published 27th Oct 2024
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