Colin F. Jones


Breaths are drawn in; gasps heard everywhere,
Staring eyes and open mouths; Oh! The despair!
Guilt rises as protest in even those who were there,
While the silent ones are calm; choosing not to share.
There are whirlwinds of panic rising to the brain,
Anger spilling over reunited with remorse again.
But the smokescreen as it rises from the shelves as dust,
Soon blows away in a wind that no one can trust.
Then there are brief yet hot encounters; solving no pain,
Before the fiery flames dim bowing to normality again.
Ah! The Moon in heaven, moving slowly away,
Sinks beyond the horizon as the Sun starts another day.
As we march again together a common bondage to share,
While others gird their courage, to go where we do not dare.