PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Ramming concrete with the blood 
of the working class. Erecting statues 
of forgotten people who have left 
an impact on the whispers of 
the streets. 

The steel and glass streets of 
defiance raising flags of surrender 
in the harshness of afternoon sun. 

These towers know that underneath 
them sleeps a multitude of faceless 
names. Rejected shells of skin and 
bones. Matted minds and uncombed hair. 

These shadows wander the concrete 
solitude with hands raised for 
charity, eyes downcast with fear. 

Sometimes they drift into the 
great temples of religion scattered 
throughout the city. Great symbols 
of stone erected to give shelter 
at Christmas and Easter. 

Priests chanting Mass in the severity 
of their churches. No charity, only 
salvation and redemption. Great crosses 
of resistance raised like a flag against 
the jargon of the monied classes.