An elegy for innocence

Historically the books are written by a well-known writer The characters are formed to choose the sense of flight or fighter The library of the mind stows away the facts from the fiction The sequence of events unfold, memorised with restriction The nature of the story, can cause the mind to cry The loss of peaceful innocence in those days gone by The imagery of barricades in a crowded stark front room Foreboding silence and tension create a sense of doom In the old terraced house, there’s a closure of ranks As the fighter steps forward and the other flanks The pushing and shoving in the silent stark room The circle decreases and a flash warps the plume The memories jagged as they cut like a knife As she’s hit by the boxer and fights for her life The dry autumnal street carpets red and gold The crunch of the leaves cushioned the blow The flash of the memory vivid and sharp Innocence held with such disregard The nature of the story, can cause the mind to cry The loss of peaceful innocence in those days gone by