The weapon chosen, then overturned cars
A savage rush of flame and smoke begins;
A generation lost, afraid, spurned
Burnt shells of churches witness broken sins.
A revolution across broken states
A bit by bit, urgent conflagrations
Start fires through bombs and roars from anguished hate
A youthful spring without destinations.
The shielded walls of bulletproof plastic
Stand firm against the rolling human tide
A leader’s warning seems inelastic
And leaves only words for people to deride.
Yet in this desperate, shameful hour;
A man throws a small bouquet of flowers.
No comments:
Post a Comment