Sticks and Stones
Is it the hunger of children
that brings the beast to prowl.
Crying out the souls of poverty as
sticks and stones lay down their head.
Salty tears drying just below
the eyes of today’s forgotten,
dripped onto the little feet
without footprints to follow.
Callused soles of traveled miles,
rubbed into the distain of nothingness,
from thick leather boots stepping
on the fear of the lost children.
Copyrighted: 2018 CMM
Oh the Banter,
Eagle and Child Inkling 