In the heart of New York City
searched a mother for her daughter;
They found her, feeling darkened pity
in the brackish subway water.
The black mud caked beneath her nails
her eyes filmed o'er and gray;
Her frame a pose of the agony throes
like gravity had lost its sway.
They brought her home and planted her deep
to conceal the ugly slaughter;
and to this day that spot is gray
like the brackish subway water.
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Author:
Fränz Müller (
Offline) - Published: July 18th, 2025 11:27
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: Priya Tomar, sorenbarrett, Damaso
Offline)
Comments2
Dark and sad this poem speaks of loss and death. Very well written and a fave
BRAVO
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