Slivers of Rage
You torch our ears with promises,
gaslight flames to burn us in a corner
to camp beneath light we can never own.
Streets are littered with dreams
no one can fix and hearts that can’t unbreak,
while pulpits and podiums prey on us with pyramid schemes.
What about us … the slivers of rage living on
the edge of shadows, torn hearts without
needle or desire to stich a country into a flag.
We are different colors…different lovers…different souls…
broken bones walking the knife blade of those who are more
tender with their prejudices than the humans who suffer at their feet.