Poetry

Tuesday, 25 June 2024

Life on the line

 Johnny's on the line

He's getting no sleep today

They don't like you for your personhood

They call themselves the Robinhoods

The Forest rangers

The track defenders

But the fruit gets squished in their grips

As insult off their red lips trips


They'll use you on the Strawberry Line

They'll take your body and soul

They'll tie you down and wait

Until across you bicycles roll


Don't go and sell your body

For the price of their coal

The respect you'll earn, will not burn

Hot enough fires in your soul


They talk in their drivel

Of self-aggrandizing fame

To keep alight their own torch bright

While the light house is aflame


Everyone wants a beacon

A dream in which to believe

Come and be a follower

You might give but you won't receive


Not unless it is their scorn

From the early morn until the Eve

For their crown of thorns

Is always worn

whether borrowed or whether thieved 

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