Charles M Moore
Brothers - Poem by Charles M Moore
Those who never took the chance
would never know the song and dance
the bullets kiss or devils dance
They would never see the smell
or listen to the devils bell
beseeching those who never fell
to join the dance.
It marches to you, creeps and crawls
it's in the air and on the walls
it beckons, tempts with silent calls
to play a part.
You dream of things you never missed
a silken glove, a child's bliss
and search for something in a kiss
Count the shapes and number blades
of grass that ferment in the shade
of filth that wallows you in waves of grief.
Sunlit grey hangs in the mist
where brothers pray and bite their lip
to cut the cord that gave them birth
Before another time and life
a memory before the fight
beyond the curtains of the night
it hangs it's face.
Only here and only fate
where then means nothing on the plate
food for thought the brothers wait
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