Cold November

 

 

The Lights went out one cold November

Which date it was; I still remember

The Mourning of the twenty-second

With outstretched hands, her soul beckoned

Unintelligible groans, cries and pleas

No right to challenge their decrees

Injustice for justice; the gavel strikes

Subjecting innocent to guilty stripes

Trust misplaced on the integrity of others

As they callously embezzle the dreams of young mothers

And still it is this date I remember

On the twenty-second of November

Amidst the unheard cries and shouts

That was the Mourning her light went out