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 Harry Sweeden. My life in verse.

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The Dust Cloud


Where once the Market stood

Only silence filled the dust cloud
=========
once the market stood here
just a moment earlier
there had been life…
hustling and bustling
buying and selling
laughing and crying
but now scattered
here and there
bits and pieces…
of people…
of women
of children
of old men living out their final years…
now final moments…
then screams,
so many screams
of people dying
of people crying
not knowing…
bodies burning
acrid smoke choking
pools of blood running into gutters
now full and overflowing…

A child sits alone, just staring
covered with dust and blood
his mother and sister by his side
burning…
he reaches into the fire to wake his mother
to shake his mother…
but she does not move
she just lay there burning
then sirens screaming
people running
newscasts beaming across the heavens
where no angels look down
where God has turned away in disgust
at mans inhumanity to man
and we the viewer look on
no longer shocked
just grateful…
it was not our neighbours so hateful
emerging from the cloud of dust…
where once the market stood…








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