with bare hands you move rubble
upon rubble hoping to see
a limb
that you can
grasp
your nails crack, fragments
of rock dig into your palms
red bones emerge
from your knuckles
then suddenly there is
a face
eyes sealed
by powdered concrete
this is different
from when the earth’s core
begins to shudder
and you cling to the ground
different because it was calculated
by someone you do not know
with instruments you will never see
according to orders that seek to end
lives
touch
that face and feel
what was once warm
before the blood and your hands
grow cold
Reviews
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Wow is about where I'm at right now. That's very, very good. The topic is interesting and sad, and the structure compliments it well. It unravels nicely, thought sadder the farther along. It's a pretty real image embedded in my mind. I like beginning, middle, and end of this poem. I don't feel like it's weak at any point. I love that it's fragmented, it really adds style.
Amazing write,
Adie. Rewarded 8
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Thank you Adie! I hope you look for my other poems. I haven't been here a lot because I found it hard getting used to navigating the site.
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oxymoron270
June 15