Unsubtle Departure

I remember when
the street lamps were my alarm
clocks, and trees were homes,
but things have changed, and people
wait with carved-out souls
in their windowless vans just

so they can get a
piece of your innocence – a
trophy for their diseased wits

© Christopher Rupley 2016

(This is one of several beautiful Eastern forms of poetry called Waka. This particular form of Waka is named Choka, and the syllable count is 5-7-5-7-5-7…5-7-7).

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