...nevertheless
do not attempt to call this
art,
not actually nonsense
because these are all landmarks
of sorts,
friends without names here
but when i scan
i always remember what they did with their lives
and how they wish
to reshape them to reinvent what broken lines are there
furrowed on their faces
people that strike me with disbelief
lives like the flash of lightning
making so much thunder
a community bewildered
losing hope
expectations crashing down
like earthquake
productions
ah, these moments of truths
there are all here
captured like pigeons inside
a box of wood
they will not be killed.
RIC S. BASTASA
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/those-pigeons-inside-my-box/
