Cloaked ConsciousA Poem by Stephen T
Cloaked Conscious
You see the old woman All weathered and worn Digging in the garbage Looking for something warm You think of your home Then get in your car Smile to your self Thinking, you have come far She pushes her cart Back out of the breeze Deep into the ally Where nobody see's You drive away slowly With her out of sight Your conscious cloaked For one more night She lays out her cardboard To make her a bed Getting out of the wind Pulling her coat, over her head You pull into your drive And go on inside Think to your self It’s good, to be alive Down the dark ally The north wind blows Under a pile of cardboard She is shivering cold You turn on the news The weatherman, points to snow You think in the morning Your car will be cold Pulling out half a burger She had found tonight A slight smile on her face Supper, is going to be nice Going to your warm bed You toss and turn Images, of the old woman In your mind, are burned Driving back to the place You left, your conscious at Searching for the old woman Who sits haunting your back Finding, a cardboard hut Recognize, the tattered coat You move to her slowly In the driving cold Her weathered worn face Passed away with a smile Her frail body, cold and stiff Has been dead for a while Kneeling, you cry softly Knowing, you didn’t do right And wondering, how many others Would die, this cold and dreary night Sometimes our conscious hides Under cloaks of success If we don’t lift the cloak We will drown, in our own distress Stephen © 2016 Stephen TFeatured Review
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2 Reviews Added on January 15, 2016 Last Updated on January 15, 2016 AuthorStephen TPunta Gorda, FLAboutSemi retired, Glass is always 3/4 full an or else kinda guy. give me the option of do this or else and I always choose or else. it's always the more interesting option. more..Writing
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