Flown The Keep

Posted on Nov 10, 2011


The old man wise in years
Lost so much but sheds no tears
Seen a lot in his long life
Alone and without a wife

He worries about the young
The lost children, one his son
For they live in a world so blind
No future to fight for or even try

In the news he sees the blood of innocents
Pour in faraway countries, his anger vents
For they fight not for country or family
But now for oil and all things monetary

He wishes he could cry for his ninety years
All that’s gone, all those lost tears
For the world he started in was fresh from war
Three years passed, he was born into law

His father a policeman, who kept the peace
He was to follow, but war came, so released
But the things he saw mankind do
Made him sick to the stomach, we haven’t a clue

Now though, he sits in his home, thoughts drifting
Wondering when it’s his time for his spirit to be lifted
Murders, rapes, destruction and barbarism
All wrapped up in our modern world, but to him, repetition

He sighs in front of his autumn fire
The television on, the channel of his desire
Again he sighs as he falls asleep
No waking days now, his soul flown the keep

Posted in: Poetry