A DIFFERENT RACE
The lighted first-floor windows illuminate them
Their good sides always facing outwards
Like so many beautiful birds they perch;
Silently caged,
Mouthing ‘For Sale’ pleasantries
Outside
Others less beautiful ply the darkness
Stalked by vermin
And the ghosts of their childhood
There is a rage
Unfurling flags of despair;
‘Look at what you have done’
Some are shouting
‘Don’t you care?’
These articulate ones are the ugliest
The least loved
And the loneliest
Raw and challenging, Tom. Stepping out of the comfortable territory for potential readers.
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Always leave ’em wanting more, that’s my motto, John!
I started reading The Human Hive. Excellent so far; but I am a slow reader so it may be a week or so before I get back to you.
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