Peace Poet Antony Owen

close up of a sign against white background Photo by Tayeb MEZAHDIA on Pexels.com

Met a woman from Hiroshima whose skin hung from her fingernails

she watched it blow like voile in the purple gamma fog

nobody wanted to hear her tale, “move on” they said.

I wrote an important poem about her and sent it to “The Albino Hare Journal”

They were looking for poems on syntactic compounds of conflict

I broke a rule of not choosing Times New Roman, 11.5 font.

Met a man from nowhere you’ve heard of who put out a blitz with his eyes,

he was just a boy you passed as an old man and you never batted an eyelid,

when he passes on his epitaph will be in any old font, his life was a poem.

I wrote an important poem about the dirt in his fingernails he couldn’t wash off,

“it’s all I had left of my Dad when we…

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