The Warehouse: a poem By John McKinley Pride Jr

“The Warehouse”

Here I remain
Forgotten by the world
Broken windows have released my soul

My doors no longer open
Chained heavily with no thought of future purpose

I can still hear it inside me
A humming like worker bees

The cling clanging of Metal, forklifts and alive with flickering florescent love inside.

By John McKinley Pride Jr
5/10/11

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