Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Conscription

They weren't there when I grazed my knees,

They couldn't care if I sang out of glee,

They wouldn't share my good deeds,

And they sure as hell don't act like I'm free

 

I asked a few times if they needed me,

I'm over that, I even joined the rat-race,

They wonder if I'm doing the right thing,

It's whose job to judge art?

 

For the world to freeze in one day

I wonder what, come what may -

they'll make of the artists and singers, poets and all else with a decent heart

 

Saharan dust fell yesterday and I saw the stuff in the air at my front door

Today I missed the rain,

But tomorrow I'll rise again

 

But because there's nobody screaming in my ear - I'll move it anyway,

 

Try me

 

Copyright ©️ David Bosworth 2026

Request permission to use this poem
Written by
dave-bosworth
35 / M / English
Published
Mar 20
Lines·Words
17·140
Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell dave-bosworth how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write