Poetry

AT TIME LIKE THIS

Now that the rumbling is over
that the pain and pangs calculated
Drumming the support of mistake
In the mist of two giants
The people filing like ants
Trooping from the anthill like soldiers
Beckoning the drums of war
Cacophony clandestinely clipping in.
What a strange voice manipulating
The multitude to act contrary
Youths of uncontrollable values
Vomit venom and promote vandalism
At last the time is here
The war is over
At time like this the can of worms
Open, and some need to go to jail.

Pius Dukor

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