Saturday, 31 January 2009


to betray when young
is an act of innocence

once in blood we
rose and rejoiced

to take land to make
a fist of famine

our victory an iron bed,
two cows, a cart

first came the sour
looks and then lots

they came for the
frail and failed

they came for the
fit and fresh minded

those of us left
turn twisted lies

now cold and old
past principles die

those who could
cry covered in soil

to betray when innocent
is the curse of youth

No comments:

Post a Comment

Welcome and thanks for dropping in. I'll pop by yours by and by.

This blog was inspired by First 50 words where you freewrite from a single word prompt. I use random words or images to create flash fiction in formats ranging from twitter postcards to short short stories.