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Compartment 114
Compartment 114
Stop It

Stop It

A Poem by Mike Michaels

City crushec like a parchment ball
Pulled apart, no symmetry
The terrible things young men
Visit upon old men, women
Children wail, lost, alone
There is nowhere to go, hide
Rounds roar in, crash, crush
Then the rich clear the rubble
Buils vilas on bones and blood
All the while calling for more and

© 2024 Mike Michaels


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Added on April 22, 2024
Last Updated on April 22, 2024

Author

Mike Michaels
Mike Michaels

Milwaukee, WI



About
I'm a poet from Milwaukee. more..

Writing
Maura Maura

A Poem by Mike Michaels