West Poem by GRANT FRASER

West

Rating: 3.0


What is west,
we are not there
with you,
what is west
or best of all,
for everybody,

not west,
surely,
East of here
somewhere else,

are we westernised,
scrutenised,
detested for God death?

perhaps,
and all the bullets
and bombs from todays
hell will spill us, out,

I don't think it's
got anything to do
with him though,

No,

this is about
bread, bread, bread,

lots of stinking
desolate bread,

lining the couldn't
care less pockets,
of a faceless crew,

dead of everything!

Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Kumarmani Mahakul 27 January 2015

Dead of everything west makes this wonderful really.

0 1 Reply
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