Couldn’t Be Heard

chasing paw prints
stationed quietly
like dead fish upon the beach

shells stab the feet
as elbows and biceps mesh together
forming one intricate collage
dripping with fluids

clowns walk by
tears painted on their face
because of those people over there
those people couldn’t be heard
crying

Debbie Budnick
my book: “The Writer Within” can be found on PublishAmerica.com

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