Do you ever find rest where you lay
as the unending flood of busy lives screams and is gone
Do you find yourself begging to the ones who buried you to be seen again
Do the worms who gnaw at your flesh also choke on cement Does the makeshift cross of cheap PVC pipes serve as a mercy of your god or of shame
as the flowers die and new ones are never brought
Are you seen as a reminder of cruelty and fear instead of a past spirit
Do you not deserve peace?
Few remember your name
Your face
Your existence
But why?
Why does your presence bring warning and not mourning?
What did you do to deserve this fate?
By Sasha Riley ’29