Image for post
Image for post
Boy Bitten by a LizardCaravaggio [Public domain]

I have been wanting to write about the boy

and I still can’t

I am not ready yet

For dissecting the body of horror

Bequeathed to him

By roofs of tyranny

That should have been his gentle homes

Instead he inherited

Hard hard stone

Hands

That break flowers

He is drowning now

And so is his world

All his lovers

All his neighbors

All his animals

All his earths

Sinking now to the bottom of our sea

Wondering how can one little boy go so wrong

Wondering how it all started

But it is always too late

It is always too late

Human breath is weak

When we find the lost boy, we will sort all our disasters. I will not explain the poem further but I will continue to write about that lost boy we have let getting destroyed, and hence the mayhem…

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