Archive | June 2017


It burns and burns

With a plastic smell

But the roars are ignored,

Unhearing the yells

Of those who lost 

At the shake of a hand

The assurance of life

Or a safety plan,

Or sprinkling ceilings

Or wider halls

Or the gift of time

To save them all.

May they be remembered,

May they be restored,

For the ash won’t settle

Until the rules are redrawn.



Can you feel it beneath you?

That gentle sway?

As the rope is cut

And we drift away

And find ourselves,

All drenched with blue,

Suspicously watching

The friend next to you.

They lied to us

About the future we need;

They played a game

To make us leave.