Saturday, August 29

A lost dialogue

A short communiqué,
To start a quarrel,
Hard strikes to the face,
Blood, filling barrels

The wounded chap,
No thought, no reason,
He won’t quit,
Just fight, persist

The ugly outcome,
Bruised faces, broken ribs,
Yet no penance, a virtue, too dated,
For if an oblivious, questions why,
Conflicts, you know, happen for no reason.


Duncan said...

Very powerful poem with strong imagery. I love your writing style, it's very fluid. Based on this poem, you'll probably like my next one as it is also about the absurdity of fighting and violence. Keep up the writing and I'll be sure to keep coming back!

Anonymous said...

hey, thanks for following. You seem extremely smart and poet like. It's true. Fights happen for no reason. Except maybe, to win an argument, respect, a love. Who knows.

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