The sun rises as hope,
the wind is singing,
the small birds twitter,
the soul is all bitter,
my mouth is closed.
every animal weeps
within its cage
their heads never raising.
as a hole feeds deep within
our hearts — but if everything
around you is not quite as it seems
are we all we wish to be?
like an army defeated and so afraid
to see.
:: 07.17.2020 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 