PRESSURE

 

I feel the pressure in my eyes

of burdens long ago forgotten

but yet to flower

for they ask to be opened

like Christmas packets of sugar

coated with light snow

cold to taste.

It matters not that they are

wronged, for it is about the use

of all, not the right of many

to be free of this thing called

terror, so using these works

the starting of phlegm has

begun,

with the work of many

being undone

for it is without work

that we start to talk

about seeing them in hell.

No work shall be done

until they are done, and too it is

such that all the right

are ready to fight

this, such is the mileage they

make to the starting of

time, where it is all a

shameful due, to the right

and the link to oppression

that is the left-ish

result that too

can be done here.

It is time to understand

that this has gone before

and such it is

they ask not how

but who, not why

but there and then.

It shall be done to

them and to me for I

will be denied the right

of all things, to be able to make

the right of all to begin

again.

COPYRIGHT BRUCE E SAUNDERS 2017

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2 comments
  1. Great poem.

    I love those opening lines,

    “I feel the pressure in my eyes

    of burdens long ago forgotten

    but yet to flower”

    Very powerfully put.

    And so true.

    Liked by 1 person

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