Hope lies dead on the red carpet -
Fame has claimed it's sacrifice and
It's not a pretty sight.
Right place at the right time
For the taking of Death's wine
And a bone of discontent.
Now the eyes are open,
Gawping, mouths drooling
Axes grinding.
The bandwagon is lumbering
Towards oblivion and we
Could have avoided this,
Still, we choose blindness
When it suits us,
Languid, ecstatic and nauseous
From It's soma.
Once young and impetuous and full of life and wonder,
Now virtually dead.
One night.
One street.
One fight.
One knife.
One heart.
All of us
Murderers and murdered.
wow ANDY! your poem is very good. u write regularly? ?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Voicing communal blame in a very potent way. Well written.I totally agree, fondly from Fay.