The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Heart Cry

My heart cries
to the
people of despair
concrete prisoners
of society
locked in
hunger
alone
hungry for
satisfaction
Eyes blinded by
empty bottles
thrown to
Them
by the belching
bloated bellies of
the
Ungiving.

Dripping myrrh falls from my fingers
My head downcast,
hands hang limp in ignorance
Blood stings in my veins
at the thought of my
warm cuddly sheets
of softness
hiding my face
from the hand
outstretched to
me.
Where am I
when I need me?
■





©1985 Mark Daniel Milbocker  All rights reserved.