Poem: With labored breaths she welcomes more The tired, the poor, the wretched to our shores But rusted chains now dangle from her torch The masses on the border won’t be allowed to cross Gun powder greetings, It’s ours not yours, the illusion is fleeting. Armed men on horseback deliver a chastening The people cried… Continue reading REBLOG: ‘Fears of Freedom Lost’ by Nigel Byng
Tag: Liberty
Short truce, or: Respite to regain strength
A 'Septolet' Ukraine seizes the initiative and liberates swathes of territory. Russia proposes a “short truce”. Septolet? The Septolet is a poem consisting of seven lines containing fourteen words with a break anywhere in between the two parts. Both parts deal with the same thought and create a picture.
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