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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Jun 2020
Ripples in the fabric
The first siren of the day
passes me by on the way
to the second siren of the day,
this is not the place for quiet reflection.
they're now performing autopsies on countries!
All is lost
Venice is sunk
Rome has fallen
Nero is drunk,
no use in feeling sorry for ourselves
no one likes a
winner,
whiner,
two timer or a
three time loser,
Another siren
but who is it warning?
it's not even seven in
the morning,
this is not the place for quiet reflection.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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