Monday, 6 February 2017

poetry 2017 / 029

Last Kiss

She's going home today,
back to New York City
and its eclectic mix of people,
where they pretty much don't care
about your skin colour,
about your religion,
about your politics.

What matters more
is whether you can smile through adversity
and turn an insult
into something beautiful.

She's going home today,
I just wish it wasn't
in a lead lined casket
with homophobic slurs
carved into her face
and the skin of her arm
mottled by battery acid.

No comments: