The lost trail of our girls

Have you seen a dead grackle?...

I still remember sitting on the bench by the front porch,

the sunlight was blinding.

The air was heavy and dusty,

you felt like breathing from an empty casket.

Death was coming…

Raw meat standing at the top of the trees,

cigarette ashes hidden under the carpets,

thirsty throats running out of gray water,-

and a hurt woman moaning from the ceiling

while holding her forgotten daughter.

You don't see a dead grackle!

until a shameless crow is flying in circles around the sky.

No more blue bright plumage,

the wings were sacrificed,-

and their hopes abducted.

All you find at the end of the road is the endless fight of the

petrified mothers.

I don't want to see more dead grackles!

I don't want to live as a scared grackle!

But we know there's always going to be a lunatic crow...Following

us around the night.