Why Am I Writing When Theres A Fly On The Wall? Poem by James Wakelin

I dont know how it happened
It just briefly passed me by
A huge cyclonic hole in the wall
depresses the lonely chasm
with white and yellow stripes
with a border blue and green
How many turtle doves of peace do I have
to release this year?
I lose count
Up and away staying for a time
Lost in space representing
The void in
each one of us
How do we fill it?
Must we?
With a poker-dot trail of rain
And a splashing window-board
Representing the truth settling
and the days passing into
the void of light trapped
into indisriminate ways
so certain it could produce a
fortune of truth to
a washed
and indiscriminate
people who
wait for rain
to wash and cleanse
the tears and fears away
My People!