Tuesday, 9 October 2012

False Emperors: A poem for a friend.

False emperors in concrete thrones,
The suited, grey and hollow drones.

Tick tock of the beating clock.

Tick tock of the beating clock.

Like nodding dolls with broken strings,
They will mummer out their script,

“We speak in unity.
We speak in unity.
We think in unity.”

They do not talk.

Let the memories burn.
Stand up and
Find the strength to
turn your back.

But before you do,
Even though it splits your face,
And fills your chest with ash.

Stand up.
Turn your back and walk.

With the closure of the door
Against your prison walls

Look up into the sky


Hold your head high.
Know that you are true;
That your spirit is uncrushable.
That it is not you. 

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