Banished.
Banished!
on May 3, 2007. ©-MFB III
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Like penguins on ice floes
they stand huddled,
congregated in small groups
against alabaster and crystal towers.
In black suits and business dresses
most face the Arctic stares of
those passing by.
Their breath forms white plumes
in the warm air,
much like mine
in bitter January.
They move thier limbs
in small motions
from mouth to side
and chatter loudly.
They are the flickering ashes
of a people of habit;
near extinction
by personal choice and actions,
forsaken by an intolerant society.
Filtered out of the mainstream of life,
Their tan and white butts
are scattered everywhere.
Observe these cremains
of an era now past
they are becoming rare,
like our own abilities
to seek truth.
