Cracker Jack Prize
By TropicalSnowstorm
Sometimes I drink too much to feel…nothing in
place of the something that I can’t put my finger on,
but nonetheless lingers everywhere around me.
There are no heroes here…just survivors, but
then, what would you call someone that wakes
up every day and does whatever they have to do
in order to ensure food is on the table and their
widow doesn’t have to sell herself for bread.
I can see the clump of hair on the floor, partially
obscured by the dust and debris, but when it is
gently grasped to be placed in a bag it is clear
the light has played a grisly trick on everyone.
Only a woman in her kitchen when the Talibs
decided to let loose on this dangerous residence…
just hope against hope she wasn’t a mother –
nobody can take any more surprises today.
-- by Steve McKennon – 11/19/02
Awards
Comments on "Cracker Jack Prize"
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On Tuesday, November 3, 2015, soul_versing
(774) wrote:
This painstaking read makes me realize how easy I have it; compared to others whom aren't so fortunate. Some times it's better to take a few steps back and just be the observer, rather than the disruptor. As always, I'm left stuck in deep thought after reading you. -bows to you, sir.
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On Tuesday, November 3, 2015, TropicalSnowstorm
(1580) wrote:
Thanks for the high compliment!
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On Wednesday, November 4, 2015, soul_versing
(774) wrote:
No sir, thank you. --Bows
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On Sunday, August 15, 2004, sixsixnine
(476) wrote:
damn this piece hits hard * absolutely brutal * this poem was like having an axe being thrown into my face .. genius storm *669*
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On Thursday, March 6, 2003, Jonas
(715) wrote:
grisly... very heavy
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On Thursday, February 20, 2003, liquid_emotion
(323) wrote:
Very visual