And all is left, undone

Time utters peace to her
Yet she mentally instigates war
Another twenty-four hours
Another six p.m. finds her lost
Here
Begging pity for her self-induced frustrations
Wearing the wreckage of yesterday and the troubles of tomorrow
Seeking calm in a confused Babylon
As timeless horror
As sinking ships
Tidal waves
She cannot swim
She longs for a savior
She petitions the maker of birth, life and death
She struggles to keep her head above ten foot waves of madness
She gets no pity
She drowns




ABOUT THE POET ~
Martine V. Clarke is a geographer and poet from Trinidad and Tobago.


Last updated September 25, 2015