Flowers at the Side of the Road
Withered flowers beside the road, muddied bouquets of memories, tattered stuffed animals, cards of scribbled regret, stand like slaughtered soldiers, weather beaten sentinels, awaiting the slow slog of justice, a murky tide to come rolling in, if it ever does, bringing justice for all. Meanwhile cries for retribution echo, hoping somehow vengeance satisfies, though it never does, only pouring more cut flowers onto other piles of grief, multiplying screams…