A Poet Regrets
April 16, 2018
Words have stampeded (the children are dying)
The herdsmen have left ( their children dying)
You only have words and words are no use
Condemning the killers is it any use?
Worse than the killers are doctrines foot loose
That propel them and bolster their fingers and hands
As they go round the neck of the girl like a band.
A girl who loved meadows, (who wouldn’t love meadows?)
And horses grazing on pasture and meadow
The father with a staff like a prophet of yore
Old Testament opens up, Moses and more
They were all shepherds blistered , footsore,
Their faces as rough as the sand that they trod
but never confronted this kind of gore.
And our two ministers, they sure were not sighing
Our two ministers they sure were not crying,
They never spoke up for the girl who was raped
nor a handful of dust on the grave of the dying.
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