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Old Folks Home MAG
There’s pain here
In these pale blue walls.
Forgotten memories,
People,
And me.
The canaries don’t sing,
Trapped in their cage
Under false lights
And dark clouds.
The wind beats at me,
Driving salt into my flesh.
I don’t want to be here
But I have to come.
I have to watch
The doves pull out
Their own feathers.
They don’t seem to notice
The pain they cause themselves.
I have to watch while
Fragile bodies scream they
Don’t know their own families
And strike at loved ones.
Who only sadden further.
And all the while
The canaries don’t sing.
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