The Poor Nation/A.Faye Hicks

pstrongBy A. Faye Hicks/Po' Poets Project/strong/p pDIV align="left" TABLE cellpadding="5"TR VALIGN="TOP"TDIMG SRC= "../sites/default/files/arch_img/533/photo_2_feature.jpg" //td/trTR VALIGN="TOP"TD/td/trTR VALIGN="TOP"TDTR VALIGN="TOP"TD pby Staff Writer/p pThe PEOPLE are being Scatteredbr / br /shuffling along with, blankets, backpacks, shopping bags pushing carts/p pNo more Unity in the poor Nationsbr / br /Park benches uprooted----shopping carts over-turned, homeless people unjustly br /arrested/p pPolice circling around like VULTURES,camouflaged as Human Beingsbr / br /The sick living in doorways, behind cardboard boxes.br / br /Bathrooms locked, water fountains denied/p p“This is a sad state” Thought the tired so-called Bag Ladybr / br /Alone, Mental Facilities sorely tested, Weakened by a gnawing hunger.br / br /From her womb, Misery was etched upon her copper tone belly/p pShe paused too rest for a momentbr / br /Dark eyes glazing into the distant skiesbr / br /Pondering the next movebr / br /Remembering the Peaks of her non-existancebr / br /An old Lady at Eighteen/p pBirds flying in formation, overheadbr / br /Dark clouds floating, silently in shapes of nightmaresbr / br /Her only safe shelter the Blazing Sun, capturing her attention/p p“If only I had a Star to wish upon or Something I can get some energy from.br / br /She stepped upon the wet, well-cut lawn of a Californian City Hallbr / br /Its dampness drinking in nourishing her beingbr / br /Her breast painful from unused Mother’s Milkbr / br /Sticking to her dress, Ragged around the edges of her soul.br / br /Its wetness the Morning Dew or Her Deluge of Tearsbr / br /Coming from deep within a inner well./p pTHE POOR POOR NATION/p pAh, The grass, so soothin to her wiggling toes. COMFORTbr / br /Half worrying about Police Surveillancebr / br /Knowning she was on Public Propertybr / br /Not daring to restbr / br /Because a trespassing ticket, would dip off into her Funds?/p pThe gold nail polish on her sun burnt toes glinting magicallybr / br /Spiraling undrugged thoughts upward seeking SUCCORbr / br /A hole in the Bushy Hedges?br / br /Dare she rest? A Haven?br / br /Her curled into a Tiny Ball! Her hide-away bed The City Hall/p pWith its Black Gold Dome, warrin against a winter sunbr / br /A King’s Ranson, Battling against the principals of the Homeless Nationbr / br /Unnatural Flags, weavin in the Beautiful Breezes, Compromising Life/p pOne Nation Under God?br / br /YO! YESbr / br /The power hunger god!br / br /The prestigous god!br / br /The Greedy Gut god!br / br /And The blood thirsty one!/p pAh, Knowling she signed, Better get a move onbr / br /There is no rest for my weary Bones here.br / /p/td/tr/td/tr/table/div/p