The Fallen

So I had to write a poem for my AP Language & Compostion class & this is what I came up with. Hope you like it :)

The wounded are down

The sick, the bleeding,

None to pick them up,

Another man of "righteousness",

Passes them by for they are,

Filthy,

Dirty,

Worthless.

Blemished on the outside,

Just as we are within,

The colorless clouds close in and around,

Disgrace,

Disgust,

Disapproval,

A frown.

The wind sighs at the thought,

Of our careless pretenses,

Our clouded objectives,

Our morals given little thought,

Wrapped up in ourselves, we are selfish,

Engorged in ourselves,
Our desires,
Passions.

We leave them lying,
On the stone-paved, cold, gray pavement,
Of cobblestone and rough cement,
Between the boulevard of the broken,
The avenue of the reckless,
The December night starts start to dim out,
The black midnight moon darkens,
As another one falls,
With no one to help him,
Up,
On,
His,
Feet.

This bleak town looks down on them,
Ashamed of their presence,
The dead winter leaves mourn the proud one's haughty glances,
Who will pick these beloved up?
Save them?
Defend them?

Or will they be left to suffer in silence,
Unable to save themselves,
As we all once were,
Are,
Will always be.