Rocky Mountain Lows

Living in Denver. The city that hates the poor.

The rich people here are like the mountains that rise in the distance over our city. They are hard like the stone  and cold as the snow. They hold themselves as if they where the peak of pike. But I feel like the mines in Ludlow.

This is the mile high city but The jobs are few and far from taking us anywhere above sea level. The rich are devouring up what refuge the poor have left. They cry for more parking lots and parks to walk their purebred dogs that are just as genetically deficient as they are emotionally. The food stores sell cruelty free, grass-fed beef that costs twenty bucks a pound. So it looks like I’ll be grass fed too. The snow keeps falling and my hope starts to fade into the cold winters nights.

I woke up this morning and took a shot of the poison we call hindsight. I planted my seeds right as the first frost was coming. Now I’m not sure if the flowers will grow.

Rocky Mountain lows are bringing me down, I hope I can reach those Rocky Mountain highs I hear so much about.