by Richard Swanson
of us? Find it in words!
What does it say of our kind
who practiced a devil's design
there, of torture as cure?
Whatever was in the mind
to think that screams confined
wouldn't be, couldn't be heard?
What does it say of our kind
of vision, that we'd find
through shaming a way to stir
whatever was in the mind
of people outside toward blind,
cold acts of vengeance undeterred?
What does it say of our kind
of stupefied logic, leaving behind
all reason? How absurd,
whatever was in the mind.
What does it say of our kind?
~
Copyright © 2007 - Richard Swanson
Published: 3/29/07 · Author's Page · Next Poem