Pressed against the graffiti wall

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Photo: Canva.com

Pressed against the graffiti wall 
I saw the deaths of twenty-somethings
crawl behind me,
dressed in fire suits
made by the devil,
they dragged themselves away from me
and ventured into the dusty roads of their forefathers,
as they crawled along the roads
they vomited Aids, bullets, drugs, pills and ropes,
and left me scared as I ran to the others
who were enjoying disco lights, cocktails, Facebook memes, sucking cocks and abortions in backrooms.

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