Driftwood

A Poem by Marshall

Bruised and beaten in the salt swamped oceans
burnt to crackled skin, unbarked, floating
highways in the waters racing, warm
blanket of currents, tossed in the tide
of reaching places, far off shores
infested by man -eating sharks
piranha fish, electric eels, the boat of misery
finds its channel to freedom
on some strange islet that leads
to unkempt land.

Not wanted in their own country
scratching for existence
watching nirvana on Channel 52
each scampers in the dead of night
to find a home in other unwanted countries
abandoned on the beach of mercy.

The war on poverty will rage
around polished tables of policies
and the rich will get richer
while the poor get children.

We are driftwood dressed in a society
with new bark-like skins.