They are piling up, row by row,
in the lost, confused people’s hearts.
The cold bodies that will never be warm.
Missing people, mysteriously disappeared
without a trail of when or where.
Families went looking all alone.
Minorities that no one else
seemed to care about
as desperation combed
dirty streets and thick woods.
People of power stayed away,
filing the missing persons
in a random, crumbled paper pile.
Not helping ones they deemed
less deserving than others for help.
Wet, soiled grounds absorbing
the unfound dead, cold bodies
while mothers and fathers feel helpless
waiting for news they will never receive.
December 4, 2017
© Andrew Scott – Just A Maritime Boy 2017