Nothing But The Living Poem by G. Newton V. Chance

I have felt the weight,
The heat, the hurt, the hate,
The venom of vertical violence;
Heard the horizontal lines of lies,

Seen long lines of broken lives;
Uttered guttural 'argh' of pain and rage;
Dared to tear and burn sacrosanct pages,
Peculiar proclivities.

I have tasted blood, bitter blood,
Of my own wounded mouth,
My own bitten tongue,
Talking against tooth.

I have seen and heard angry mouth
Speak out, spit out uncivil banter;
Spit toxic saliva;
Spit broken tooth, bad blood and silver

Shards of civil battles fought.
I have seen blood, oceans of blood
And every body fluid,
Flow from orifices;

Seen black blood, blue blood,
All the shades of red.
What matters colour of blood shed?
Colour of blood bled?

What matters colour of dead?
The colour of death?
Nothing but what's left.
Nothing but what's right.

Nothing, but the living.

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