Fevered Mind

A poem by Sydney Stone. I do not own the image.

***

Hear us now, the thrice-scarred youth,

The downtrodden poor,

Those deemed uncouth.

Hear our cries- that echo past dusk,

From rain-clogged gutters,

Up from our soul’s battered husks.

Hear our whispers- upon the night air,

Sighing from rooftops,

Our trials laid bare.

Our gazes lifted- to your ivory towers,

Hardened by sorrow,

We concrete-spawned flowers.