Revolution
Call the men and arm the guns,
For a revolution has just begun.
A secession has taken place,
Yet it is in the spot behind my face.
I let you in and you ruled my mind
With an iron fist, and a solid bind.
The people are tired, starving, and cold,
And it is time for a change of mold.
Exile the old and in with the new,
Just as the kings of old used to do.
A lonely battle cry and the war is on,
But the old regime is not easily gone.
Sleepless nights and absences
Are a product of expelled commanders and slain lieutenants.
An outward downward spiral is made,
Yet the people are of a hearty grade.
On a battlefield of broken dreams
A light pierces through the seams.
A single flower from a lifeless land.
I will never forget what we had.
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
Comments are closed for this poem.