Poets In Denial
Sing ye poets of stunning birds and butterflies wings.
Kiss ye, your own,Muse pen, on divine parchment, scribblings!
Ride in gentle winds upon your colorful, faux unicorn
Your hair flies in the wind, soft as the new dawn.
Speaking of love, oh, tis so divine,
But the slaughter of the unborn…is fine?
Madness runs poetry, our lost souls shrink.in literary brine.
Heralding to all, that all the world is fine??
Ye run like sheep when a poem addresses a human evils and wrong!
Instead, you prefer jokes and applause from the gigglimg throng !
Is this all we are, in a world so vile?
I have read many poems here,far too many smiles?
A head from a body chopped off in Nice?
I find no poem about it, just gleeful pages
poetic fleece.
To Olympus should be our chosen.grand banter.
Why do we prefer trophies and empty chatter!
To reality, we keep the door fiirnly shut.
As if we can hide from evil, alas. tut-tut!
5/30/2023
I wrote this three years ago. And I do not recall the beheading story
of the woman in Nice. I do know the world is in a catastrophic space
right now. More so that three years ago! Not only the Uktaine
Copyright © Panagiota Romios | Year Posted 2023
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