the legacy of haste
When anger ascends
there is no end
Sticks and stones and guns
and words
are all heard.
My son cried
when I tried
to deny
his first chance to fire
a gun,
he was young
nine or ten;
boys will be men.
What girls will be
I can't see.
Thursday, January 15, 2015
Sticks and stones and guns
My last post has left a bad taste -
the legacy of haste
When anger ascends
there is no end
Sticks and stones and guns
and words
are all heard.
My son cried
when I tried
to deny
his first chance to fire
a gun,
he was young
nine or ten;
boys will be men.
What girls will be
I can't see.
the legacy of haste
When anger ascends
there is no end
Sticks and stones and guns
and words
are all heard.
My son cried
when I tried
to deny
his first chance to fire
a gun,
he was young
nine or ten;
boys will be men.
What girls will be
I can't see.
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Excellent combination of visual and verse.
ReplyDeleteThanks. It's funny how you write a poem and nine times out of ten you find a fitting image to go with it.I can only marvel at the internet.
ReplyDelete