Alone

Alone, she hides beneath the sheets
fading away from the light, fearful
of the world and all its pain.

Alone he dwells in his cardboard box,
meager possessions bundled with twine,
tear stained photos plummet from holes
in his shirt pocket.

Alone I lay me down to sleep, praying
for the safety of my children, the children
that my addictions have denied me the
right to see on a daily basis.

Alone the world shutters in a violent
universe, and God shakes his head in
disappointment and saunters away,
leaving us to our own devises, leaving
us alone.

By Wayne Russell 

Biography:

Wayne Russell is a creative writer that was born and raised in Tampa, Florida. Wayne is the founder and former editor and chief of Degenerate Literature. Sadly, due to unforeseen circumstances and time restraints, DL closed in late 2017.