the shackles of the pastA Poem by jacob erin-cilbertothe shackles of the past
city slickers look out
from 100th floor windows cotton pickers wipe the
sweat from brows
the glass is clear from
both ends decades pass in parallel
stretches
Whitney invents, stocks indent paragraphs of wealth thesis statements blow
away in a southern town
an essay on field
trips-- dark victories on Wall
Street eclipsed by relevant
poverty as far as the eye can
see
no matter what
floor---the perspective---
ground level is a face
to face look at how far we've not come since the North and
South seceded from sense and brothers quit
staying at the same Inns
life is green now, no blue and gray or confederate flags, but in old hearts the material is ripped
and torn
the country so worn downtrodden people still picking thorns
from hands still bleeding from the
transgressions
no one owns me, and i own no one else my sanity and peace of
mind mine to keep
and the chains are
optional even if it still feels
like they are there.
erin-cilberto 3/11/17 © 2017 jacob erin-cilbertoReviews
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8 Reviews Added on March 12, 2017 Last Updated on March 12, 2017 Authorjacob erin-cilbertoCarbondale, ILAboutOriginally from Bronx, NY, I live in Carbondale, Illinois...teach English at a community college and have been writing and publishing poetry since 1970. I am here to read for inspiration from other po.. more..Writing
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