Friday, April 27, 2018
Sleepwalkers––poem by Dorothy
The Entitled
They are all walking around us
as if they were dead or
in trance.
They crave new and shiny things
with wheels or wings,
bigger dwellings to live in,
investments that continue to rise.
They keep flying to distant
destinations in their personal planes,
order expensive dinners,
buy fancy clothes,
drink the finest vintage wines.
Will they fly in their own
private craft to enter heaven?
Will they wear their newest
fashions when they arrive?
If they would just pause
they might hear music
that they had never
heard before,
feel the touch of something
they did not know exists.
Dorothy Walters
April 11, 2018
