Saturday, April 22, 2017

Rob Schackne #308 - This War

This War


How the years poked
sense & poetry spiked
why would you look back
babylon looked like paper
it was just a factory
the end of an old road
the trees were finished
the leaves were done

this war killed them
we’d killed them too
hold me tightly
whose metres swayed
hold me tightly

leaves are growing
how can this be true
unless you're a bird
& stating the obvious is
the same as you don't listen


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