A Plethora of Worlds

A Plethora of Worlds

Among the bones,

the ashes,

and the unsteady spine,

within the skin that engulfs them all,

a world maybe,

or a plethora of them,

I cannot fathom,

and never will,

a stigma of an old memory,

a shadow of someone who’s gone,

A story of a beloved one,

a stranger, a friend, or a criminal.

There will always be forgotten ones.

 

Devious men and desperate women

bereft of hope,

looking from above

on a child who strays in her room,

thinking she can save the world.

Among the bones,

the ashes,

and the unsteady spine,

a broken world,

a plethora of them,

that cannot be saved,

and never will.