WORDS

First published in March 2022

Words are all we have,
no 303s, no air rifles,
we can't even make
petrol bombs, as poets
words are our weapons.

We can't aim words
with any accuracy, no
bullets in our armoury
but we can shoot to kill
wuth a telling phrase.

We can paint pictures
in poetry, show pain
in the faces of those
forced to bundle belongings
in one wheelie suitcase.

What mentality can allow
such brutality? How can
one man, one demented man
create such havoc, spill
so much brave red blood?

If words could kill, poets
would be had up for murder.