Trigger-happy mercenaries win
Because lies clothe naked data
The desperate groundlings lean over the stage.
(That’s been us, by the way)
We dip then raise our fingers; spit swims with blood.
Tragic spectacle steams in winter’s cold.
Can’t find the right words—
Since innocence,
courageous
civil disobedience
is rewarded with
violence.
Think it not nonsensical,
This was the plan all along.
Machiavelli showed how
Crafty dealings shuttle his-story along
What to do when justice fails?
Do we look within—let love prevail?
Express the ire—its needed burn?
Link arm-in-arm—block icy fire?
or
Wade deeper in the mire?
By now, I think, I cannot judge
whatever you decide to do,
Since grief, they say,
has a thousand faces,
steps towards healing
I just can't shake this feeling,
That death approaches, not for one,
not for all,
but for this world we thought we knew.
What will rise from its ashes?
Will it smolder long, or
flash-bang,
razing the forest of
once-healthy community?
This poem beautifully articulates the grief and uncertainty we feel. It’s a poignant exploration of our collective responsibility
Nice! Good images and metaphors.