UNPROFOR

 

 

            I didn’t play today,

Couldn’t bring myself to nauseate

The world with my own beats fantastic,

     The negotiation done, alas,

Without true words from my

Own sad input.

 

            Walls! The more I pound

The more the concrete surrounds.

Powerless, nothing more but watch

The pendulum of a tired clock,

     Hour upon hour of waiting,

While the other side, the hounds

Are baiting.

 

            Bring It On!

Let’s hear the excuse for this

     Abuse,

     Singing on! I will never

Give up the hunt, never cease

Dismay at your totalitarian form

Of punishment.

 

            He wasn’t dead before the Balkans!

Diagnosed conveniently Encephalitis,

Brainstorm of a veteran, while authorities

Seek exemption, from within the rules

Of justice.

 

            Now I, tongue tied and twisted,

Facing so many restrictions, play,

Play on a brigade of death.

 

            Play on yourself Mr Parnell,

For they like it when you do something wrong!

Play on for Andrew’s hell, play on for all

Those wronged. Play on, plague on, the

Spots light before your eyes!

 

            How many lies do you conceal?

How many bribes before appealed,

Appeals before a damned conjunction,

These bodies of The State,

These tragedies of trusts misplaced.

 

            I couldn’t play today,

Not whilst hands are clasped,

Seeking answers from a universe

Unheard,

     Why his death a mystery?

Why can I not sleep at night?

     Why?

            Perhaps, perhaps what

Is unsaid, is the awakenings to

State prosecuted murder.

 

 

Michael J Waite 2^nd February 2009