Storms Of Hate

at noon the sky is seamless blue
but close at hand a storm conspires

and this is not a tropic storm
it rages in the heart of man

the clouds will soon converge
and hot and cold shall meet

and hate and love will then contest
their meeting in the street

the sky grows dark and blood will flow
no peace on earth today

when gods and frightened men concede
and look the other way

by Barry Middleton

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Comments (1)

Another gem from your poetic pen. A10