Stanzas: Monthly Chapbooks March 2015: Identity | Page 13

The Nameless
Lauren Griffin
Steam rises from the open grates.
The swish of cloth marks the hour.
Scrubbing, cleaning, silently screaming,
coarse, ribbed hands repeat a never-ending cycle.
Words stripped from them as they fall
and are left to suffer.
Children born to nameless mothers
and sisters dressed in black.
An endless cloud hangs steady above them.
Concrete skin rubbed raw, as names slip through the grates.

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