'None So Blind..' - pipTalk Forums

How to Join	Member's Area	Private Library	Search	Sanctuary		Login
Main Forums	Discussion	Tech Talk	Mature Content	Archives	A home without a wall, Our haven without ends, A circle we all call Our Family of Friends!

sullivanthepoet.com
Member

since 2007-06-28

Posts 154
Devon, England

0 posted 2008-12-05 10:18 AM

As flocking sheep about a bole,
they parted there as one and whole,
each eye intent a different pole,
about that poor misfortuned soul.
All crumpled there upon the ground;
As each and all walked brisk around.

They eyed the shops, the gulls, the clock,
while not a one defied the flock,
none broke their stride nor turned a lock,
but deftly swerved that human rock.
Aheap upon the pavement there;
They passed her by without a care.

And too the child with tear filled eyes,
all frail and lost its fretful cries,
in quest a trunk to recognise,
it ‘mongst that trousered forest plies.
But not a single cloth barked limb;
Reached down one jot to comfort him.

Tho’ each new plaint such contact yearned,
not one a kindly face downturned,
nor once that infant’s pleas returned,
but bustled by full unconcerned.
Each granite feature cold resolved;
Twas better pass than... ‘Get involved’.

And there! In direst issue yet,
about by ruffians ill beset,
with boot and fist and curse and threat,
for naught but his last cigarette.
In daylight on that crowded street;
But not a gaze his eyes dared meet.

As fearful birds all skit and squawk,
they idled by to furtive gawk,
til eyes avert each past they walk,
tho’ not a one dared play the hawk.
No grit amongst them each or all;
To ‘pon that bandit’s coven fall.

And bold the youth with iron bar,
puts in the window of that car,
outside some crowded Bistro Bar,
but patrons all oblivious are.
Though many they and villain sole;
Another man’s new car is stole.

Til by, as wolves, all cleaved apack,
dark hooded leers atwitch with smack,
our feral young the night streets sack,
and not one voice in answer back.
And you whose courage easy fraught;
Like mice upon a clock see naught.

Thus hour on hour and day on day,
bold hunter makes now skulking prey,
by our own issue held at bay,
lest we, by fault, their ‘rights’ betray.
A coward’s riddle doomed unsolved;
While each we fear... ‘To get involved!’

© Sullivan the Poet 2008

www.sullivanthepoet.co.uk