One hundred years, and nothing learned.
I did not rise in splendor
From the dead-ditch waters
Which whirl-pooled around my ankles
The mud-diluted sea of red
Rust-rivers stagnating like life
In corners where distant words
Dissolved in faces stilled
Becalmed by fearful waiting where
Desperate actions leant death a
Gift of welcome clemency
And possessions rescued hung
Silent monuments to death and waste
A quietus from the words once cried
In fantasised glories never birthed
Merely swept away, erased
Until the hollows ceased to be
Lost deep beyond consciousness
Of greenery and soundless peace
As weeping rains form pools
Which cling to abhorrent memory.
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So many seas of red. No, history hasn’t taught us anything, really.
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One day, perhaps, sense will prevail and we can earn the ‘humane’ in the word ‘human’.
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Let us hope and do everything we can to provoke change.
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