poem for a sunday morning
Joseph Verrilli
Your words
Linger
Like scar tissue
Among healthier cells
I wonder
How you justify
Your human politics
You would seem
To want to trivialize
My dreams
And my life
Your gain
Is a smirk
At my pain
And yes
It hurts
You spoke
Of rote cruelty
Inherent
In these city streets
But you carry
Your mean streak
As if a red badge
But not one of courage
You keep me
In a convenient corner
But what
Are corners worth
In the realm
Of passing time
And untouched artifacts
