National Poetry Day Poems part 1: SIX by Clive Oseman

I am not a silent poet

They served the time for someone else.

Named and blamed, framed and shamed

to douse the flames of outrage.


It was all too easy.

A game for those with a job to do

but no concrete clues,

nothing to lose in their reckless desire

that someone had to pay the dues.


Wrong place, wrong time, wrong nationality.

Who cares about the lives of family men

if their profiles scream guilty

when the twisting of reality

brands them and robs them of their sanity?


Now, the verdict quashed

they’re free to go, to be abused

by those who refuse to adjust their views.


As free as birds with broken wings,

the families of the victims

who are locked in ruthlessly remorseless grief

because they’re never going to know the truth.

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