When The Dust Dies Down Poem by John Howard Davies

WHEN THE DUST DIES DOWN
BY John Howard Davies 8th. February 2017



WHEN THE DUST DIES DOWN
AND WE FIND WE'RE NOT AROUND
JUST THE REMNANT OF A SOUND
WE CAN'T REMEMBER

ALL THE SHOUTING DONE
ACCUSATIONS FLUNG
THAT SWANSONG SUNG
BY DYING EMBERS

WHAT A WASTE WHAT A RIDE
SUCH A STEP SUCH A STRIDE
SUCH A STAB IN THE SIDE
THAT'S STILL TENDER

NO ONE WON NO WON LOST
BUT WE BOTH PAID A COST
BENEATH THOSE SMILES OH SO GLOSSED
THAT BOTH DID RENDER

NIETHER SAW THROUGH THE DOOR
THAT SAID STOP AND NO MORE
THIS EFFORT IS TOO POOR
SO SURRENDER

SURRENDER WE DID
WATCHING AS HOPE SLID
BENEATH THE DUSTBIN LID
OF OUR GENDER

SO MANY HOPES SO MANY FEARS
THAT WE SAID ENDED UP IN TEARS
FROM PRECEEDING LONG GONE YEARS
FROM OUR PRETENDERS

IT'S NOW TOO LATE AND FAR TOO DEEP
FOR US TO WONDER IF WE'D KEEP
EACH OTHER DREAMED OF IN OUR SLEEP
THESE CHANCES BOARDER ON THE SLENDER

WHEN THE DUST DIES DOWN
WE'LL CLEARLY SEE THE CLOWNS
IN THEIR STRIPEY GARRISH GOWNS
WITH NOTHING LEFT TO RENDER.