The Unnatural Apologie of Shadows

We say lightning has no wings when it slides down our houses We say loss is just a condition we acquire to bury our pity further We say the bleeding hands on the table filled with red wine imported products and passports are just reminders of who we have become We have no titles no birthright no groves or Shakespeare to return to We apologize for the fear growing out of our ribs Apologize for the numbers still etched on our tongues