Utter chaos at the grindstone, my dear.
Today is unlike any other.
Bruised faces,
Bashed in separate places,
Please don't tell another!
Man watching from above,
Not seeing any love,
Not expecting any dove.
Incarnadined children at the grindstone, my dear.
Today is like yesterday.
Children wailing,
Their Elder's planning,
Just a normal day in May.
Man watching from above,
Not seeing any love,
Not expecting any dove.
People running around the grindstone, my dear.
Today is not the end.
Sharpening knives,
Ending lives,
Not ever meant to mend.
Man watching from above,
Not seeing any love,
Not expecting any dove.
People preparing at the grindstone, my dear.
Today is the start of revolt,
No one quits,
No one picks,
All ready to go forth.
Man watching from above,
Not seeing any love,
Not expecting any dove...
-May 2001
When did you write that and what prompted you? It was a very visual poem. You need to publish these in a book, my dear.
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