Poetry:

Strangers

The strangers walk alone
Their feet are bare and sore like stone
Hear the sirens saving lives
Hear the laughter and realise

Life's still and takes a breath
Realises there's nothing left; It's cold
And exhales a cloud of smoke

There has to be a reason why
There has to be a meaning to our lives
But still, the sirens sing
Children never return home

Life slows to take a rest
His legs limp
He has to catch his breath

It's like a war
Neither side's alive
No meaning in the siren's songful cry
They strive, they fight and long to die

Life's singing
But he's closed his eyes
Lays down for sleep
Because sirens paint our dreams

Thomas A. McDonley (C) 2003