Untitled


***

We’ve trapped ourselves in every way,

“I was never apart of it” you’d like to say.

Head down, eyes closed, with blinkers on,

As though you wore a blindfold.

*

But blindfold intimates you’ve chosen,

While blinkers on,

Speaks of duty and delusion.

*

Guilt the blind man’s sightly sin.

*

Listening to empty words,

Spoken with beautiful finery,

From the house without Lordly manner or dynasty.

*

Blind man listening well,

Eats his just deserts with dirty fingernails.

Blind man caught in his bluff,

While worldly men squirm in a rut.

*

Black man, white man,

Woman and child,

Bridle and bit made to be the perfect fit.

*

Homeless, is the truth for many,

Numbness splits the lips of the weary.

Honest words hang mournfully from parched muzzle,

As the mill horse clocks another circle.

*

Forelock your love,

Find your power.

Live without the bit and bridle.

***

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5 thoughts on “Untitled

  1. Sarah,

    I am sitting in my living room, listening to the Stephen Nolan Radio Ulster show, and wondering, If you would want to send your beautifully emotionally moving poem to Stephen.

    I would love him to read it on air.

    Moya

    Sent from my iPad

    >

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