The Crowd

Poem By Stephanie MacMillan

I`m enjoying the rising of toxicity
Caught in cyanide's resplendent vision
That rises up in clouds of death before me
The obstinate falling down against bricks
With the sky as a blanket and nobody around
Just a crowd entangled in each others' arms
Waiting for the moment of disarmament
As I float slowly, softly, down to the ground.
Aiming with precision with cells as bullets
The height of the sky suddenly plummets
Sheer intensity suddenly leaving from me
The choking of the last breath out of me
Slowly landing on the blanket before the ground
The crowd gathers and then there is no sound.

Comments about The Crowd

This poem is about falling into a crowd.


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