Get Your Premium Membership

Earplug

Earplug If the eyes can find sleep when the left hand in battle hacks to bits, a right at peace Indulges our parched earth that can never drink her fill of human blood libations And the town crier never cries at his gong's discordant tunes with the plight of the people Then, power is only an ear plug wealth, a virtual reality camera and the people, jesters at court.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Shattered Sighs