Overhead
Gathering storm clouds form
The darkening sky mirrors
A troubled soul
Seeking answers and safety.
While neither exist
Beyond a brief moment
Like a lightning flash
In the distance horizon
Before vanishing.
Sudden downpour
From the heavens above
Like long suppressed tears
Held in check
Soak the parched land
Needing fluids and healing.
From a world that views it
Visible sign of weakness
By a diseased soul
In need of correction
At any costs.
Destroying the soul
That's fought over
In the healing process
Vainly preserving
Society's false status quo.
At what price
Does the cost outweighs
The cure’s end?
As the coroner pulls away
Loaded with the remains
Of another victim
From society’s homophobia
And racism.
Therisa © 2018
Author's note: I started writing this poem, on the rainy Sunday morning of Toronto's Pride parade (June 24, 2018). As they honour the 8 confirmed gay male victims of alleged mass murderer, Bruce McArthur. While Toronto Police Service say, there may be more victims and charges, before the investigation is done.
Another poem for this year’s Pride Poetry.
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