A Slam for the Slammed

It’s the simple explanation

for this sluggish dying nation

the conundrum

of the humdrum

normal is as normal does

It’s the whining crying wanting

and the screaming dying haunting

of the storm clouds stewing silently

a poets muse of rain

You remember that old story

hidden gate — memento mori

theres a graveyard

and a boy

heather field, a color’s ploy

I’m a scribble

I’m a stumble

I’m the auditory mumble

of a broken bridge

and rushing water

Stars and moon

and son and daughter

Peace can’t come from violence

not a whimper, not a bang

I’ll show you a world of wonders

if you’ll save my drowning land

by Ophelia

http://youngwritersproject.org/node/71284

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