Vera Sidhwa


Iron Fist


The iron fist,
Held in his heart,
The hardened heart,
Took a part.

In the fight of it's lifetime.
The fight that could injure,
The innocent,
And unknowing.

One day a child,
Looked at this fist,
And wondered,
Staying in wonderment.

This child gave the fist,
A flower and a kiss.

Submitted: Monday, July 15, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, July 16, 2013

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  • Thomas A Robinson (7/15/2013 11:05:00 PM)

    Someday the fist will lose all of it's might
    The strength will run it's course and be drained of all it's might.
    But only in the end does violence pay out dividends
    Flowers just wilt away, kisses make pledges and must be done over again
    And all the tears clear the eyes so we can focus on what is important once again
    It is gripping, it is slipping, I am thinking oh please not now or ever, it is such a sin. (Report) Reply

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