Intoxicating music stopped

Youth secretly vanished

In the middle of frightened night

Sat upon a dirt infested carpet

No water or power, don’t panic

Ignore it and someday you’ll laugh

Sparse unhealthy sustenance

And bountiful lies to consume

Two squatting corpses await

Any death or regular poverty

Movement is a question

Sleep becomes the norm

Kind reality knocks the door

Manageable pain years pass

Until one sits amongst tropical glory

Iced fruity libation in hand

Never forgetting in the midst of elation

Yesterday carpet serves as somebody’s seat