We Are Silent, We Are Still
Tak, tak, tak, tak
goes the gun;
in a raid of the dawn.
Ahh, Ahh
screams the child,
into fractured world born.
Shredded:
a body, another life torn.
Rhyming' old news.
So what's so good about today's?
Running from the real blues?
A recession of compassion;
inaction for gold:
a silencing transaction.
Silence falls on fields of killing.
We lie in our pity:
sticky and shitty the despair.
The answers we are taught;
range from don't know-
to don't care.
I know I would play my part
if I knew where to start
...would I?
I know something of the pain around
but how to give in?
How to die?
So many
beyond the overflow line,
sickened;
dining on these old platitudes.
We've needed something wider,
deeper.
His unattainable beatitudes
Demanding another
to play the game;
the same death creeps in.
Allowing His goodness
to bring only shame.
The blame we spin.
When we are uncomfortable,
our culture threatened.
We are loud and hate-filled,
love easily abandoned.
But when the straight evil
of theft, rape and murder
elsewhere comes to kill.
When hunger steals another
and war a thousand more.
Then we are silent then we are still.
"If you want to serve the age, betray it."
Copyright © Ross Thompson | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment