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Frances E McClelland
Poems
Apr 2019
Crisscross
Staggering through the ancient doors,
of unknown warriors' repent;
Bravely abiding signals ahead,
despite the shroud of deep descent.
Wondering now what's truly at stake,
when crisscross patterns reject;
The straight and narrow walk ahead,
in the shields' protective ascent.
Crowds which curry fearsome thought,
will soon shrivel up and die;
As slings and arrows pierce the night,
of corrupting phantoms' lies.
A ghost lives on beneath the earth,
its wisdom rules the force;
Which cuddles up to man or beast,
in competition for discourse.
Let others call the crisscross game,
the worst its ever known;
But legal eagles crack the code,
reflected in steel and stone.
And everyone should rue the day,
when miracles have succumbed;
To raging wars that still survive,
in a world that's lost and numb.
Written by
Frances E McClelland
Hamilton, NJ
(Hamilton, NJ)
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