Bill Grace

Casualties Of Civic Duty - Poem by Bill Grace

Given the metal detectors, long and rushed lines,
unfamiliar surroundings, and general intimidation
of a big city court house for a country boy,
I count my blesings that the casualties were only three:
One steel fork as weapon I did not guess
Knowing a pencil can serve as shive;
One Fisher bullet space pen gift;
Respect for politicians who lack the courage
To face the color gray.

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Poem Edited: Wednesday, January 27, 2010

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