Their faces looked at me
blankly –
I asked them,
‘How would you describe
the world we live in?’
For a while, the faces remained
passive, circumspect,
frightened of a Big Brother
they hope does not exist.
Then the words rolled off,
clean, cut like shards of glass
rough diamonds which only sparkle
in seedy hotels under ultraviolet light
a war-zone
blood diamonds dripping
with the hunger of an orphan’s heart
brimming with vice,
drink, drugs and abuse
cut diamonds equipped with hilts;
gilt in stolen gold.
Their faces looked at me
hopelessly, helplessly –
unsure of how to rattle
the bars of the bad example
we are setting them.
I looked for any solace
I could find, only to be met with
‘soon aren’t we all going to die?’
unpolished diamonds, six feet under,
buried in the oil-less ground.


Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019

Between the Trees UK

Between the Trees US

Available internationally

4 thoughts on “Diamonds

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