"Emerging Writers, Serious Writers"

since 2009

Poetry, Prose & More. Join Us!


Star InactiveStar InactiveStar InactiveStar InactiveStar Inactive


Dissatisfaction lingers in the air tonight
From the old man hiding in the corner
To the kid on the street with a baton in hand
And the old man remembers nights like these
When as a boy he was that kid
Standing there taking that step from boy to man,
But his desire was to protect, to stand before the enemy,
And he was looked upon with a pride for his bravery,
The kids' motivation is to destroy, and scar the memory,
And he will be looked upon with disgust for his stupidity.
The old man sheds a tear.

From the shadows dazed and confused,
A young man wanders aimlessly to safety,
And is soon surrounded, by a gang of 'brothers'.
Meanwhile a mother steps from the street,
Into the bosom of her family,
And is confronted, by a room full of strangers,
The young man is offered help and assistance,
And then robbed by one of his unseen assailants,
The mother is cursed, abused and then beaten,
Tossed aside to watch them leave with her possessions.
Upstairs she hears her baby cry.

There is orange tinge to the darkness tonight,
And in the distance I can see those flames licking the sky,
There is no safety out on the streets tonight,
And within the alleyways you can hear the battle cry,
There is anger within the voices of the young tonight,
They want their peers to listen to them when they question why,
There is fear within the cries of the innocent tonight,
But it seems this system of protection comes at to higher price.

Surrounded by sirens I stand and scan,
This devastation before me,
The war zone of yesteryear no longer living only in memories,
I hear the tears of the stranded and broken,
Who look upon the burnt out shells,
Home and businesses taken, the realization all too real,
A single gunshot became the starting gun,
And for the opportunist the game had begun,
And as this city sleep we try to unite as one
But I feel the fear on the streets for the night to come.
The world sheds a tear.

The power is in the pen and not the fist,
And a show of strength doesn't prove you are right.

Comments (1)

This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

I was patiently awaiting this... power in the pen not the fist... tell it like it is unwanted!!!

There are no comments posted here yet

Leave your comments

  1. Posting comment as a guest.
Attachments (0 / 3)
Share Your Location