those days
those brain banging
walled up days
when once we sang
and once we prayed
and listened to
an endless stream
of suffocating
future screams
filled our hearts
with futile fumes
a fear of hell
and heaven's gloom
the small man's hand
in clouds up high
left nightmares
and made us sigh
never good
enough - or right
we sacrificed
our open sight
they filled us full
of hedged in scenes
with questions killed -
our minds - less keen
and once we left
our searching grew
the boxed-in ways
took shape and view
but even then
we felt hemmed-in
so far behind
a late begin
the brain-washed time
still leaves it's curse
but guess it could
have been far worse
Joy Weare,
5th June, 2010.
Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades
Vote for this poem
Please Comment On This Poem
|
|
|
|
|
poet7925 |
|
|
|