Another 16 yr old Gunshot Wound to the Head, Another Mother Crying,"Oh God, Why Have You Taken My Baby?" Another Round of Drive-Bys.

The Second Day of Mourning by Gaston Ng

The second day of mourning is always grey,

When the grandeur of elaborate pain

Fades into a comprehensible dawn.

The asthmatic morning laboured to wheeze a few

Competent breaths to last from bus to school.

A grim visage canopies a lurching heart that still stumbles

In the quicksilver and endless corridors of remembering.

Mourning seems such a vain thing.

It crys aloud to be seen, solicits pity with

Conscious tears and wanton dysphoria,

Damns an implosion with a paradoxical front.

Trudging up the overhead bridge that prevent dented fenders

And stubborn bloodstains on the roads,

The sweaty morning clings onto my skin and sorrow

Weighing with the symbolism of exertion.


  1. After great grief/a formal feeling comes


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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

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