What can I say about life?

by Samuel De Lemos

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Memories gathered like
a squirrel’s winter feast.

People’s feats seldom
experienced, except when
it comes to pain.

I’m hunched over and racked
with the stripes of living.

Yet, no one notices
because I stand
tall when I
take my usual
beating.

It burns me to see
the privileged shopping
from day to day.

Within sight of the
poor and hungry.

People who’d give anything
for a warm meal and the
privilege to know when
the next one will show up
on a cold winters night.

These are some of
the insecurities
running through
my mind.

They age us, make
us helpless.
In a society that
never has enough.

The blight of life.
Things seldom discussed
because they’re all to real.

Things we don’t want to see,
mention or deal
with.

We’d rather sit
cozily by a fire
while lullabies are
softly swallowed with
every sip of our
hot Swiss chocolate
and marshmallows swirls,

as if nothing
has happened
in our own life?

Or in the life
of others?