(Polite rage over Socialist inertia).
Grey poverty and shining ignorance,
both born of passive rage
now lie burnt out behind taut eyelids,
neither choosing fortune’s path,
two poor and proud
unwelcome bedfellows
both strangers
gouging blindly heavenwards
to scar their unjust biased constellations,
then fall, defeated
spent, unsatisfied
to await their tragic epilogues,
duly cowed, with star-bruised fists
and jaundiced eyes, they fight
neighbours, friends and families
until the dust is equal.
but from this dust comes golden salt
complete with clever tongues,
sharp, aware, seers
through cracked telescopes
they spot the hidden path
but swiftly cloak
its entrancing distant glow
© Graham Sherwood 10/2015
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