Wednesday, December 5, 2007

Same As Mine

Under the wanting city
are the people who created it,
under their shuffling feet
are the souls searching for love,
challenging the gods
as they climb high above.

Beneath the wanting city
are the sewerage runs,
the wastage passageways
of the folk who carry guns.

Doing it out of dependants,
pretending they do it for fun,
living in nervous pretence,
mimic of tribal defense.

The same as mine
when I ware this face,
the same as mine
when I wanted embrace,
the same as mine
when I wanted you,
searched for you
but never ever found you.


By Mark Shackleton

No comments: