The Inefficient Being

it's spoors crimson red as it raveges on,
dragging it's limb body behind it,
more spiritually wounded than physically,
hunting for a safe edifice,
they take time to stare,
yet no one has the heart to aid the inefficient being.
tell me this,
how can someone stomache to look at certain people like they're a creature in a cage?

by Kayla Bakken

Other poems of BAKKEN (3)

Comments (1)

Hmmm, deep reflection with graphic presentation. Great poem.