Pages

Monday, April 09, 2007

unfinished

In the midst of it all, I stood alone

In the laughter and the traffic of the day.

I could not bring myself to call the names,

Nor could I, be a martyr, to atone

For the sins which i supported in my Heart,

Those unnamed persons who have died for me

Like fish netted from the endless sea

Their blood is paint that makes my fragile Art



I wish this poem had the ring of salvation,

Because my

Days

are numbered

as yours

But something better

Than the Bland

Protest of complacency

Should haunt our conscience.



Technorati Tags: , ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

I welcome feedback or comments on my blog, but please, no advertisements.