A poem written in response to the violence in the Middle East



Like ants crawling beneath the soil

we lurked, hidden, consumed by doubt

The walls excavated with fear tinged

Sweat and bleeding fingers gave

respite, a safe place for the panicked



Panic room, soutterrain while nightmarish

Visions laid waste our tearful thoughts we

Hid in boltholes those precious gifts

Fragments of sanity – whilst madness burnt,

Claimed its prize we waited for the dawn

Another midnight raid survived.


Crawled out new born into the morning light,

rebuilt with the stoic mask of our ancestors

while media vultures circled, bent weak minds

to their vision.

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