They argue, and drink, do whatever drugs they can come up with, seldom leave their self-imposed prison, content to stay inside, shoot some dope, drink some vodka, make a baby or twoÂ and throw them out the window when they get in the way of business as usual.
Inside the barricades and facades of normal looking houses lives of quiet desperation are lived, hidden from the scrutiny of civilization. In these tiny kingdoms there is no freedom, no human rights, no courts, social workers or police. It’s an every man for himself environment where only the strong survive.
Helpless, frustrated, angry and abused,
Trapped in a world filled with people
who look like us, breathe like us, move like us
but act like animals.
It’s all we can do
to keep our impulses in check
our clenched fists by our sides
our words left in our heads
as we watch another generation