The place I love is gone
it has been bled dry
and my race
demoralized
and ignored
at home.
My country which
provides opportunity
to the world
pays
her councilors
more than
her prime minister -
so I have read.
While her roads
and winding paths
have hidden
traps
of their own...
NEGLECTED
as the old
bent
stiff
limp limping
fearfully
in front of
stationary
supersonic
transport
spanking silvery new.
Speech
transmitted
to a loved one
somewhere
far away
and I
Iisening to...
something
verbal
(which resembles
intonation from
a
soap opera)
the human
proclamation
of
personal hatred?
Diction
ignorant
IGNORANCE.
Cursed
lycra
stretched over
youthful forms
reveal
secrets
once covered
for
modesty...
it was rightly so...
virtue
sacrificed...
lost
submerged,
drowned
for GREED
and SELF
can't find
their way home.
DISAPPOINTED
those
who
PAID
a
lifetime
to live
respectably...
and wonder
WHY...
they
foot the bill
for WAR
in far off climes;
Sorrow filled.
Grieving still.
Horror held and
voiceless...
The place once loved
is gone
and has been bled dry.
August 08
After a day in my home town
of Bedford
which was once a county town.
hi gillian, it's a kind of exsanguination.....that's the right word.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nothing ever seems the same, when we go back. Maybe that's why, we must go forward. (But never forget?) Danny; ¬)