look over shoulder

see clay bed made,

fate spoke over bloody fray,

wheat will not touch fingertips,

sun of the morning will not reach,

your name your country’s

belong flesh and bone

consummate to government,

and all who reside,

sink to ground

embrace the last love

that elevates beyond pain,

in conflict terms the dead

do not remain,

return flag draped

assured of the path

that righteousness has shown,

all that seems dark

will be the light,

it’s not falling in vain

if the steadfast parliament,

listen and keep the next

generation safe


  1. ManicDdaily says:

    So so sad. I can hardly bear what it raises.

    Your poem has been reblogged on Zite, by the way. Do you know it? It’s an iPad “tablet” magazine. You may also be able to download to a computer. You select different areas of interest and it makes a custom magazine. If you customize to include “Poetry”, you’ll find it. I am not on iPad now so don’t have the site, but if you go to Zite – and customize for Poetry, you’ll find it. (Congrats!) I don’t know what it means exactly – as I don’t how many have that – still, a wonderful poem to be seen a bit more.


  2. brian miller says:

    i like the call in those last few lines to listen…and to keep the next generation safe…nice write

  3. Miriam E. says:

    a great message. wonderfully written.

  4. mobius faith says:

    Another wonderful work Chris. I really enjoy your writing.

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