Let dreams chase you (Remove filter)
Scavengers
They live in grand abandoned buildings, these are the ancestors of poor children. Chased away, in some cases killed and beaten by the rich folk and their paid for freedom keepers.
Hunted we are like rats or foxes made to hide behind thinly veiled boxes holding breath as to not breathe the gases so noxious.
I find myself living within this damp and cluttered house of sin, protecte...
Wednesday 2nd October 2024 10:55 pm
Recent Comments
Holden Moncrieff on Better Sight...
55 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on 'What can writers and poets possibly do in the age of Trump, Farage and Starmer?'
1 hour ago
Mike McPeek on Civilities
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on EVEN THE OLIVES ARE BLEEDING
2 hours ago
John Marks on EVEN THE OLIVES ARE BLEEDING
3 hours ago
Hélène on Better Sight...
3 hours ago
Hélène on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
3 hours ago
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
4 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Where is THIS Jerusalem?
5 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on A Cut Above
5 hours ago