Creative Writing, Poetry

day of the dead

from a far away lifetime

underneath fragile towns they built

the memory lost

scattered likethose kids

kidnapped, killed, disappeared

echos of never again


our fragile human life

built on a pile of sand

constantly melting into place

to accommodate us better

gave us life until it could no more

still i wonder about the 43

and what will become of us now

everything has changed

though my sidewalks look the same

my heart swells like a bloated whale

the ocean that could hold no more

what will become of us now?

will they continue to laugh

clash their copas together

in houses a hundred of my lives could fit in

on top of the bones of the kidnapped kids

will i continue to walk looking down

hoping to find a memory kept alive

in just one more grain of sand

one of those grains that was our friend

back in the days when it would move

shift and make new ways

could i find a memory of what we used to be

before smiles with lipstick

were replaced by

day-of-the-dead smiles

because every day

is day of the dead now.

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