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Thirst by Inger Iceheart

Inger Iceheart | Mar 14th, 2020 | poetry | No Comments

Poem

I am stuck between four walls
and a crowd of sullen strangers
dangers to the society
we once were a part of
now apart from.
Nothing to wash away the dirt.
Hate.
Hurt.
Hunger.
Thirst.
The cop outside drinks his Stoney ginger beer.
All I have is my tears, but I am not free to drink.

Poet Bio

Inger Iceheart (pen name) is a Cape Town based attorney who, most days is either in court or visiting prisons for appeals or awaiting trial prisoners. She paints and writes when time allows, but is not published.

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