All the Lonely People
Buried alive--above the ground--
walled in by faces, people-hid,
what spade can break this coffin's lid,
or roll the heaped earth from the mound?
Useless to beat these walls and shout,
when sounds move freely, walls are air,
and around you are people, everywhere,
but no one will come, and let you out.
Copyright 2010-2012 Paul Petrie