April PAD Challenge, Day 8
Prompt: a violent/peaceful poem
***
Blinders
some news may be a sea to deep to delve;
death after death, depression, overdose,
and, let's be honest, deep down to ourselves
we think, 'Thank God, not me, not someone close.'
death after death, depression, overdose,
and, let's be honest, deep down to ourselves
we think, 'Thank God, not me, not someone close.'
I'd watch, I'd say, "Oh, my!" and for a while
I would be shocked or sad, but then I'd go
about my business, chanting from my isle,
'Not me, not mine, not somebody I know.'
I would be shocked or sad, but then I'd go
about my business, chanting from my isle,
'Not me, not mine, not somebody I know.'
with all the losk and comfort of our lives
it's hard to see: the world's not just the West;
there's hunger, destitution, human hives. . .
'Not me, not mine, not dearest or nearest!'
it's hard to see: the world's not just the West;
there's hunger, destitution, human hives. . .
'Not me, not mine, not dearest or nearest!'
who knows, maybe, it is our only way:
to watch the world like through a mired lens
and thus survive, in peace and calm, but hey,
indifference is peaceful violence.
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