Who Will Know

 

Who Will Know

If I drip like snow from the roof who will know?
When I throw stones at dead men who will know?

The mother’s ghost rests in a razor-filled moat.
He purses his lips, laughs, says who will know?

You are the night sky above the red-cloud horizon.
When I fade like twilight, tell me who will know.

Which vein traces love, which proffers denial
as our blood starts flowing, and who will know?

Unanswered prayers line his frozen pockets.
When he unclenches his tiny hands, who will know?

This man’s tongue repels truth no matter the hour.
If we hear only what he allows, then who will know?

 

* * *

“Who Will Know” made its first appearance in May 2019 at The Local Train Magazine, a publication out of Bangladesh.

 

6 thoughts on “Who Will Know

  1. The razor-filled moar seems a due destination for said MAN … perhaps his mother’s ghost experiences equal pain looking down on whar became of her child? One wonders about his maternal relationship … about the mother’s part in who he became … so easy to lay all blame on the father as role model …

    Liked by 1 person

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