Every thing dies in the Caribbean
Desire drags itself along a murky trail.
Ink stained papers fly high
In the face of God’s heaven
And hope cradles her bruised cranium.
Vision’s eyes gouged out by an... 'unsharpened' pencil.
No longer able to see sun and surf
As if that was all he was
And the others?
By parents who advertise their intents but differ on discipline.
“Help me,” they say, “before we too die… in the Caribbean”
Every Thing Dies In The Caribbean
© Tracy j H