Same Time Next Year Poem by John Scully
Same Time Next Year
Who will not grieve
over power misspent
at the lies of the Generals
caught in their web of deceit.
While we in our lairs
groaned at the folly
but in the end
laid flowers at their feet,
and on plinths
praised them to God
while pausing in silence
two minutes each year
at the same time
when the clocks of eleven
rang out their sad chime.
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5/5/2024 10:31:04 PM # 1.0.0.1119
