Tuesday, March 3, 2015

This the New Ghetto



This the New Ghetto

Thick wooden doors fractured by their idleness
The absence of warm wet hands have blackened the brass knockers
Pews sit as fallen soldiers in cemetery grounds
The altar barren of any saintly relic
Stained glass figures muted by the mold and dust
The church bells hang in agonizing rigor mortis
The pulpit weighed down by the forgotten gospels
Saintly statues covered by the web of patient spiders
The imperturbable crucifix stands watch over the emptiness and decay
This the new ghetto
This where soon all souls will seek their comfort and rest

Thank you,
Joseph Pede

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