A bullet fired.
Blood spurted.
A man fell.
I cannot tell;
I never saw.
No tears I shed.
Is it a war?
Don’t care.
No condolence
to share.
Reap what you sow,
cater to below--
sow the wind.
Forgot about it.
Another death, another day.
Not much to say
about this hell called Earth.
How many thousands died today?
Then..
Clicked on the video.
Saw my friend talking
to the dead guy.
He listened; she talked.
I saw flesh and blood.
Two humans.
A normal conversation.
They even agreed.
They were real.
Now we reap the whirlwind.
The conversation is over.
Not much of a poem, but a true story. A friend of mine posted 15 minutes of a conversation she had with Charlie Kirk on tv, from a year or two ago, I think.
In the style of B.L Costello I think...
