Poetry

Tuesday, 11 January 2022

The sword of Damocles

 It was the last sword of the very last day

The last hair had fallen away

And Damocles knew

This was his last hour

 


On the razors edge he saw his life

Shorn

Cut both ways

Like creation had sworn

But there was more to swear about


Back in those days

 

The dogs were barking at a hollow moon

And he tried to cut a slice of it too soon

And the silver fell away from the gold

The hen wouldn't lay

And the butcher was lean

He had already sold all that he'd seen

To the candle stick maker

Who was getting on my wick

I said why are you burning it at

Both ends

Can't you see that you don't have no friends

In the about turn of your ways


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