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The Un-Promised Land

don't know
how I don't know
so hard to be
looking around me so
people are not
not people
just shells
their outsides
their tough exteriors
mostly frail covering
to cover themselves
how we pull apart
how we keep apart
in the big ocean of
sea of humanity
where is the human-ness
in this mess
of unreality
a man with no teeth
where teeth should be
a woman so cold
layered up in sweaters in 90 degrees
a child in dirtied clothes
living on the streets
open sores on his legs
miles on his feet
don't know
how I don't know
why this has got to be
don't know
who would believe this so
if it will ever end
in our country
if this was their God's kingdom come
what's in store for me
is this what they imagined
their young life could turn out to be
I don't know
how I don't know
what its like to be so,
to be so invisible

directly to the page
impressions from riding the MAX
on the poorer forgotten side of town

LEGAL COPYRIGHT for this work/poem
May 20th, 2017 8:30am PST time /date stamped
and also for this writer Melissa A. Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted site title:
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-A-World

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