Modern Poem

It was only a fleeting second but you knew that these occasional acts of controlled violence prolonged the silence between the stanzas. The verses I wrote arrogantly thinking that they could change something; not between us, just a part of what was. Here, every word could be a monument to love or grief; a sigh of ennui or just relief or just a pause. Well supposed, well disposed to the occasional sleight of hand. So as to understand nothing so bland as the obvious. There is simile and metaphor and everything else is just propaganda that will be spelt out for educational purposes. For poetry is the new education and the latest government policy that the Prime Minister will relate so apostrophisedly.