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LJ May 2016
Sat at the watchtower
drunken not by ***
Soaked by morning sun
the dark haze of ice

Sat at the watchtower
not knowing how I feel
Sunk in a yesterday kiss
the maze of days gone

Sat at the watchtower
the portrait of the light
Stokes by the artist porter
the rise of the lost teases

Sat at the watchtower
the wonder of the pirate eye
Sold and ribboned in liquor
the hidden side of your phrase
Pauline Morris May 2016
There in the belly of the city
Way down there where it's dark and gritty
Lives a very complexe man
There in his Window he stands
Watching the atrocities that parade down his street
He's seen the dealer's and the junkies meet
The homeless that set at their feet
The thugs that prey on the weak
Children abused that turn them meek
It plays out every day of the week

He's seen it all
He's watched humanity fall
It's hard for him to digest
On this life's problems his mind rest
He knows there's not much that he can do
He watches and writes it all down, he's one of the few
Sent to bear witness to the inhumanity of man
To make us think of where in this life we stand

Yes he is a poet
His watched it all and wrote it
He has a big heart
Which makes it hard to play his part
Of watcher in the tower
As those below cower
But his calling he is sure of
To watch the dying of love
To watch the darkness closing in
To watch all of man's sin
To sound the alarm
Of humanity going wrong

He stands at his Window and cries out
But no one pays attention to his shouts
So he soaks the page with ink and tears
Hoping that at last somebody hears

— The End —