poem, poetry The poem I was writing Posted by ipsyb on April 13, 2020April 14, 2020 Died a senseless death The body waits In the crowded funeral homes For the rich In lime covered mass graves Of the poor Tortured and twisted In the agony of birth Breathless and blown By gathering storm clouds The cadaver awaits A decent burial. Share this: Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window) Tumblr Click to print (Opens in new window) Print Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Like Loading...