Creatures

Sad creatures.
Deformed
by dint of scratching
the scabs on their soul.
Badly loved.
Alone for vital imperative.

Dirty
of polish of
prematurely dead dreams.
Aborted, some of them.

Smelling like booze.
Bad alcohol.
The one to heal wounds.

Ancient children
behind glazed eyes.
Foggy.
Rainy.

Sad children
who flatten their hair
and hidden their eyes.

Adults of shaky souls.
Damned to exist.
Wandering in space and time.
Treading with their footsteps
the fleeting world surrounding them.
NOT surrounding them.