Terry O'Leary

Famine - Poem by Terry O'Leary

The sinking sun is now undone,
the sky is fading red
and shadows prowl neath cloak and cowl
for midnight lies ahead.

Above the heap, the bosses sleep
with bloated bellies fed;
for, yes indeed, no one's in need,
at least, that's what they've said.

Amongst the ones that hunger shuns,
in day's retreating tread,
are spiders black ensnaring snacks
while spinning silken thread.

But as it stands, in conquered lands
a famine reigns instead -
and kids at noon, collapse and swoon
on stones they call a bed.

With aching eyes they fantasize
and dream of gingerbread,
and after while, they wake and smile,
now dining with the dead.

Topic(s) of this poem: death

Form: Rhyme Royal or Rime Royale

Comments about Famine by Terry O'Leary

  • Adeline Foster (5/15/2013 2:39:00 PM)

    Brilliant indeed. Now that took concentration. Read mine - We the Unencumbered -
    (Report) Reply

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  • Ruby Honeytip (2/9/2013 1:28:00 AM)

    Stark and laden with feeling. Again...amazing xx (Report) Reply

  • Greg Davidson (9/4/2012 7:14:00 PM)

    A beautiful thing. Brilliant. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, May 31, 2012

Poem Edited: Thursday, April 27, 2017

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