The Blame Game Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The game is done, the whistle blown,
A victory lost, a seed is sown.
Not for the joy that once was bright,
But shadows cast in fading light.

A hunt begins, with searching eyes,
For someone's fault, for whispered lies.
A finger points, a voice is raised,
The vanquished soul is now dispraised.

And in this chase, so fierce and bold,
Another story starts to unfold.
Not for the healing, soft and deep,
But for the anger they must keep.

The innocent caught in the storm,
Their gentle hearts no longer warm.
A wider hurt, a wider pain,
Humanity, a strange refrain.