Poetry can make you think...

Newspapers

Newspapers bleed and clot

Anger waxes and wanes

Old wounds are opened

And

New wounds bloom and bleed

Mornings are full of mourning

With

Reports of rape, death and murder

Many play their cards

Close to the chest ruining millions

Eyes and ears are rigid

And

I breath despite myself

Sipping bitter coffee

I consume rosy promises

Of wily politicians and financiers

Who promise the Moon

And drop you like a burning coal

I close my eyes and relax

With the newspaper on my lap

With bleeding words that clot.

Words have lost their innocence

We are no more children...

We have learnt to hurt and worry

The gift of innocence is gone for ever.