In Myanmar a young man paused
He thought the junta should go
He thought young monks were brave
He would thank them
But he daren’t speak
He might not grow old
His thoughts live
In the prison of fear

In Tehran a girls passes a college
With her chaperone
She wished she could attend
She would thrive there
But she daren’t speak
She might be beaten
Her thoughts dwell
...

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Children’s faces stare

Blank and calm

Children’s small hands

Raise Kalashnikovs

Children's thin fingers 

Squeeze their triggers

Flying hot metal

Rips flesh

Breaks bones

Gunfire drowns out the screaming

Hatred drowns out the screaming

Closed minds drown out the screaming

Death drowns out the screaming

Smoke curls and drifts

Dust and ash settle

Dead eyes stare

The dead eyes ask

...

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By day he looks like your dad

He acts like your dad

He even thinks like your dad

But my dad

My dad is different

He’s not one of us

Come the darkness

And the moonlight

He changes

Its in his blood

And it gets worse

He’s not like the regular

Once a month

Full-moon

Werewolf type dad

Changing for just one crazy night

Or the beer drinking

Once a week

Friday night with the lads

H...

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This is a total change from my normal style and subject matter, so I wanted to share, and risk some feedback.

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This is a poem about why I don't ever want to retire (again), it isn't about one real-life person but loosely based on a number of people I've known over the years. 

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