Ambulances cry out, wailing for past tragedies and future mistakes
My name is Kate and I’d like to submit a poem that I wrote after a particularly cold, hard look at myself and my lifestyle.
I’m 31, and wrote this a while back.
An empty beer can rattles past my feet
And the half forgotten frivolities of a blurry Friday
Revived in aluminium tinkles.
Ambulances cry out, wailing
For past tragedies and future mistakes.
And I must keep walking
Away from ‘Get Well’ petals.
Trudging under my footsteps, the ashen pavement edges by
Like rainwater, stalling down dirty window panes.
The frail brown wrappings of a fly-away summer
Cling to stark railings,
While a canny wind whips hair across my shame
That it might purge my sins.
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