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 Feb 2011
Bellis Tart
I used to worry
that they'd send you away
to a life of imprisonment
because they hated you so
for no reasons they could explain
I used to worry
because their tread marks
were in our driveway anytime
they needed someone to try and pin things on
though you were never less than honorable
polite, personable, my genuinely good brother
I never used to worry
that they'd one up my worries
and send you somewhere further away than prison
I never used to worry that the forces
meant to uphold law and justice
to serve and protect
would walk blindly past the line
of no return, to botch their expected standards
while watching you slip away
I never used to worry
that there was an evil force within some people
that could destroy the glue holding our family
together, then again I was so young
so naive, to think that people were instinctively good
that people, having families of their own
would never purposefully tear apart another's
but I don't suppose they ever thought of me
and your kin, or beyond that need to bring you down
I never used to worry that the system would fail
allowing guilty parties to walk free,
to have families of their own; to not even recognize the fault and
to protect the ones who took you away
I used to worry that they'd try to send you
to a life of imprisonment, and in the end
they did send you away,
but it is a place where I cannot visit
and instead it is us, who love you so,
imprisoned in what we call life, where the fences are
the breaths I take, the steps I walk, the beats of my heart
the walls that confine me and separate me from the world
are the memories and lost time, and of only knowing you
through my childhood eyes
and the guards and wardens are the haze which clouds
my thoughts, unable to still hear your voice or see your face
in my mind
and my day of release will only come
when I walk through the gate, past the fences
to the afterlife, where my life will finally begin again.
(c) 08/02/11
 Jan 2011
Katy Sauer
The crowd roared to life
Screaming my name
A million glittering bulbs
Remembering, feeling
Struggling to be free
Of all the memories
That fight to hold me
Down to the ground
I will succeed
I stand taller, higher than before
I will not lose
I refuse to give in
The crowd chants my name
I smile, I pose for the camera,
I am a beautiful woman
Maybe that is all I will
Ever be.
 Dec 2010
Rangzeb Hussain
NOTE*  -  *The largest animal in Great Britain, a red stag named Emperor who stood over 9ft tall, was last night shot dead by a trophy hunter. The antlers of the majestic deer are highly prized, and after pictures of the stag appeared in the national press last week, the animal was tracked and killed in Exmoor, Devon.



These mist covered mountains of the highlands,
‘twas here that I once freely wandered upon nature’s pasture grounds,
Now I lie shrouded in the mournful fog of the lowlands,
‘twas here that I was met by a pack of bone breaking hounds.

The fresh dew upon the harvest of autumn’s final flowering,
‘twas here that I chewed the grass of sweet nature’s offering,
Now I grow cold upon the ground where I was stalked by dark doom,
‘twas here that I left life’s rocky way under a hunter’s moon.

The air of the early morn moor with the sky above my dome,
‘twas here that I ran and with joy loved and royally roamed,
Now my legs will nevermore click or clack over my domain fenced with tree gates,
‘twas here that I wooed and won my shy majestic mate.

She, my queen of the green woodlands, she was my wife and my empire,
‘twas here that we romanced in the fading summer’s fire,
Our charming child, my princess of these grassy hills now cloaked in shade,
‘twas here that she saw her father the monarch in death finally fade.

In the chorus of the dancing dawn awakening upon the horizon’s golden rhyme,
‘twas here that I sang the tune that will drum till the end of nature’s time,
They will come with stakes and wood and cross and bow me to the beams,
‘twas here where they hacked and tore off my enchanted crown of weeping dreams.

The scent of the freshly mown grass mingles with the green pine,
‘twas here that I drank the perfume and nectar of the divine,
My eyes glaze, my breathing falters, my clay chills, my soul no more sings,
‘twas here that I finally returned to the hands of my Beloved, the eternal King.

"...I shall now graze upon the sacred acres of my Creator,
I shall frolic and run free in the tender fields of endless splendour..."




©Rangzeb Hussain
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