Sunday, April 29, 2007

I’m sorry I haven’t said anything

Each time
I started to

To say something
There is yelling

Voices bewailing their dead

Guns go off
Or cannons roar

Not cannons. Rather things
So up-to-date and fierce

I don’t even know what they’re rightly called

Sometimes I can hear
People begging for their lives

From those there to harm them
And from those that cannot hear them

I open my mouth to say something

And then I shut it again


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