My Dear Public!
I am needing, very dearly, to write you a poem!
The ravenous hour approaches,
A monstrous storm draws closer.
All I can do is lie as if dying
waiting for the damage to be done.
They say there is silence before wars rage,
an unmentioned rule of focus.
The petrified murmurs and erupting fires
explode through the peace that before was.
My eyes that once were alive with light
have been masked in heavy clouds
The stabbing, the relentless knife
refuses the be satisfied.
I cannot move, I cannot breathe,
the searing pain must have an end
Then the bell rings to end third hour
and all thoughts of cold darkness
are dissolved because I can now eat lunch.
I am needing, very dearly, to write you a poem!
The ravenous hour approaches,
A monstrous storm draws closer.
All I can do is lie as if dying
waiting for the damage to be done.
They say there is silence before wars rage,
an unmentioned rule of focus.
The petrified murmurs and erupting fires
explode through the peace that before was.
My eyes that once were alive with light
have been masked in heavy clouds
The stabbing, the relentless knife
refuses the be satisfied.
I cannot move, I cannot breathe,
the searing pain must have an end
Then the bell rings to end third hour
and all thoughts of cold darkness
are dissolved because I can now eat lunch.
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