Pete's poems from the night.

32,040 poems read

Bone sleepers.

In my silence trading voices
Redemption is a million miles
These worn shoes so weary
Have seen through many trials.

Sun soaked and powder parched
The river is dry bed no tears left
Guns raised to the sky to celebrate
A passing of a prey in slow death.

Though in dying there is denial
Accounting for misdemeanours
Where the white train rolls over
Bone sleepers of faded cultures.

Progress is the answer to doubts
When death and slavery are raised
For many hands could not quell the tide
When land and not people were praised.

So in these old shoes I shall walk
Listening to voices of the breeze
Travelling a path toward a distance
Away to where I can be still, at ease.