Another quarter past
The clock ticking inexorably towards twelve and
Standing now well into its evening
Though the night is hot, now, hereabouts
And the years-long fight that thundered and trumpeted
Has quieted down to a great degree
Hollow promises no longer echoing in the world

The scars remain for those who have
Suffered under incendiaries
Something made worse in the summer when
So much seems already to burn
And the sound of shots firing can be heard even
When no report comes in from outside
They itch, and they scratch

I’m happy to compose original poetry for you that will defy AI!
Get your piece started today; fill out the form below!

Or you can send your support along directly!