In Potter's Field,
Updated on January 5, 2010
In Potter's Fields,
In potters fields
lie the faceless,
the nameless,
the hopeless
the loveless
the wretched masses
from the
poorest parts
of the cities
who died
without friends,
or the
means to
even mark
their passing.
These potter's fields
are everywhere,
and the
world has
many souls turning
into clay
that one day
the master
potter shall
restore into worthy
vessels again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~MFB III
Author notes:
This is a poem about the destitute
who die with no money to bury them
all over the world daily,
it is a huge tragic group,
take a walk sometime in a potters field.
and note the disconnection,
because they only get numbers for graves,
no name, no history, no anything,
just a number.
