Whipped to a frenzy
Looking good as you speak those words, marching
to and fro like a madman whipped to a frenzy by
buzzing black birds stalking and haunting the
backdrops to your storyline...all the same yet nothing
alike, fair game is glory all for the Reich.
Must have been there to destroy their souls
must already have had lots of holes...
Who could have known the horrors we’d see...
through untold memories which never are free
Filmed to stand through eons of time
some reporting now, there was never a crime
coming forward for this inhumane deed
cracking mirrors is what brings “God Speed”
saw her numbers and stared her down...
looked at myself, saw only a clown
I could never know what she had to say
it wasn’t my time, nor part of her play
I tried to remember how it used to be
my voice was tired and no longer could see
I hold you sacred, all you who died
more than just enough, the rest of you lied
the perils of life running herself
falling ears of desperation, turning blinds eye...
Copyright © Cynthia Cross | Year Posted 2019
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment