Halftime Poem by Kevin Patrick II
Halftime
The field lies waiting
For the fresh slaughter
When tired teams huddle
Like desperate plotters
Gleeful crowds watch
With abated breath
Aa coaches conspire
For trophies of flesh
These times of Peace
Are nothing more
then the halftimes
To plan the next war
Your poem leaves the reader with much to contemplate. As you stated, there is an abundance of time, these days, to initiate another war. Lies or lays? Great job and thanks for sharing. I enjoyed it. : -)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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6/9/2026 6:34:54 AM # 1.0.0
Brilliant, Kevin. Perhaps a sport is just something to remind us that war is on sabbatical.