Saturday Saw Too Much

in the wake of Saturday

I find solace, away from the grudges

the tears, and the shell shocked survivors

my eyelids

they’ve seen too much, they tell me

shadows embraced on the hilltop

sunk in the river behind seesaw and swings

I walked towards the edge of the pier

she looked up at me from water

come on, there’s so much space for us here

not like the water above, where the air is thin

and humanity is cold, where princes exist

in the same land mothers starve

fathers work six jobs and commit suicide

failure to provide is an unrelenting pressure

cook me a bowl of rice with savory spices

let me listen to the elders tell our story

find in me the will to see the next day

so many do away with their breath

I fear I’d do the same, if I only had one left

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