Spring Begins

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 17, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 17, 2018



Spring Begins


The birds aren't singing

They're screeching

Warnings about suicide rates soaring

Because so many now have lights

To see the truth of their humanity, and the pity in their grounded state.


Watch and begin

The murder of the masses

A black cloud overhead

That massacres with thousands of disembodied damnations

Hunting and pecking

At the last structure of support left to cling on,

The idle abstractions of winter


States of walking decay

Come to bloom amongst cherrygrove cities

Gunshots treaded on

Like gum under shoe,

Children singing,


We all fall down.


When will we wake from the dream like delusion

When will we live

Far away from the flocks

Who force and coerce us to bend to a will

A spring,

A summer,

A fall

Not of our own choosing

But one predetermined by our mother Demeter

Our external slaver,

Our kind Hades


When will we find our true spring

When will we find our true nature

When will these suicides cease

When will these murderous flocks stop

When will our ashen spring

Finally come to its end?

© Copyright 2020 Alistair Forrester. All rights reserved.

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