BabyGrace
Refugee
there will be no shame for you,
open and desecrated as you were;
lilies should not be cut to weep
their death for such a young
blossom wiped away.
black rows, straight as pins,
cannot hide with all their conformity
the unthinkable error of inhumanity,
and shadows should not be cast so large,
nor boxes made so tiny.
fresh eyes and a song from new lips;
where you should stand among them,
now they construct a stairway for you;
shining off the flat brokeness in his face,
note by crushed note.
and nothing is so beyond feeling;
while the loss is the flat
ache of a screen for us,
she is left with only a memory
to cradle to her bosom.
open and desecrated as you were;
lilies should not be cut to weep
their death for such a young
blossom wiped away.
black rows, straight as pins,
cannot hide with all their conformity
the unthinkable error of inhumanity,
and shadows should not be cast so large,
nor boxes made so tiny.
fresh eyes and a song from new lips;
where you should stand among them,
now they construct a stairway for you;
shining off the flat brokeness in his face,
note by crushed note.
and nothing is so beyond feeling;
while the loss is the flat
ache of a screen for us,
she is left with only a memory
to cradle to her bosom.