Poem -
Gore On The Tips Of Tongues
The masses.
The masses,
influenced Ceasar's thumb down....
Where?
But village squares
center town,
poor a peasant alike
cheered an executioner's walk,
darkness escapedΒ
his black hooded thoughts
weilding blades for headless bound.
Tumble weeds somersaultΒ
wild west deserts,
cowboys and whores
shoulder the common folk.
Waste good soup cabbageΒ
thrown with spittle death
towards the air dancers
kicking, noose around neck
so sorry confessions
wasn't much suited for heaven.
Now moments unmissed
wherever we can
gather round a TV,
talk with blood
on the tip of tonguesΒ
excites an eye
beholding staged death.
Look how far we've come.....
Look....how far, we've come?
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Comments
yep well well done Devon...should get more attention from all
It is what is Mark lol. Thanks man. Death in the eyes and in the minds has changed from way back to now a days. Peace brother.
well written Devon. that picture caught my attention
Awesome! Thank you Lisa. The way death was flaunted for all to see is a different type od entertainment today. Much love to you for your constant support.