Few More Crumbs

Went flying again today
And should have never come
The sun rays and pays
By drying out wet bread crumbs

Thoughts and feelings unclear
Watching the ravens eat
Wiping away hot tears
By not staying it’s retreat

Their lost children’s plane lands
Priest gives last rites
Families wring their hands
While others line up their sights

The bright children we knew
Cling to each other’s fate
But coming back home screwed
Rolled in a bubble wrapped crate

© 2014 Michael Yost 05/03

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