RD ( / )

The Black Horse Cometh

A smack echoes across the room.
Innocence draws first breath in pain -
The sharp shock a primer for future strokes.
In time we become immune to the sting,
To school chums jibes cutting to bone,
To empty promises of little girls;
And we slip like fresh fish the line.
Brambles bruise our tender parts,
Yet we learn how to twist and turn sharp
Jabs to our advantage, tolerance
Increases. Still we play the game and trust
Luck to hide lies to gain points and prizes,
On the roller-coaster, pleasure briefly rides -
Indifference wears a pachydermic skin
And time hardens its calluses,
Greed spruces up and in its new attire
Enterprise is an ethnic cleanser
And “civilized nations” stand by idly,
Secure in their safety like castles
Surrounded by moats isolated,
Impassive and impervious to life’s
Tragedies. God’s “holy books” hold the deeds
And rights to engage in espionage,
Seeking skills to dismember fellow men
Outside their clan. Survivors to the end
With sights set on goals and profits,
We move with determined strides
And on bent backs of the less fortunate,
We ride Quasimodo in exploitation.
Deceit oozes from every pore
And poison pours from every cell of being.
Though we be seasoned warriors
Wearing scars of battle proud,
Why can’t we read the turf and see....
Galloping fast on a black horse
Is pestilence, devastation and death?

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Robert Frost

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