Blustering with all his might
Cronies gathered around tight
A disappointing right
Decisions affecting plight
Of citizens wanting to fight
Instead surrender under fright
Wishing for a white knight
Hoping for that savior sight
While foolish leaders never contrite
Reside in fancy protected bight.
Closed she said, well not with words
It was more that look, stream of silence
Eyes turning darker
I thought it would come to this
After the last night we had
Unintentional, it seemed
Deep down we knew.
Quadrille #101: What’s Neither Closed Nor Cancelled? Poetry.
I was going to write something serious, as in we will survive and bounce back, etc, but no. Enough. It’s time for a smile and music and of course, dancing! Get your sixties on…
The robin’s egg blue still stands out from the dusty nest. The broken shells remain an odd personalia of the day, along with a few dried leaves that surround it. Most of the memory is overshadowed by the sudden flash of Joe’s switchblade as he pressured it against the gaunt jugular vein of the adult bird. I tried to throw my phone at Joe to distract him from killing the bird, but he was determined and made the swift cut of murder. Even as I hold the nest, remembering, I never realized the low act of a future serial killer.