There was a time when soft kind voices
Invited themselves into a blind brown eye
On the tv music played
There was a time
Then it all went wrong.
I dreamed a nightmare in times gone by.
When life was high and hope filled living
I dreamed, that hate would ever last
I dreamed that an individual could be unforgiving
Thus I was old and afraid
And nightmares were created, destroyed and reincarnated
All debts liberated
Yes words unwrote, yes spirit tasted
And the tigers come daily
With their noises loud as lightning
As they stitch our hopelessness together
As they turn our nightmare to pride
She awoke in winter alone
She emptied my nights without bounded indifference
She gave my adulthood to her anti-movement.
David Jarvis, 2021 copyright. I assert my moral right as the author of this poem.
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