projections in the night, by Ceinwen E Cariad Haydon

I am not a silent poet

1.

we met in the shade of that bright summer
innocent of the strength of hate
our country faced

you saw first
you touched my wrist

as knowledge dawned
I left my life
to join you in the struggle
you thought we all could win

even then   none could anticipate
what horror
the rolled-out months would bring
poisonous lies   death hidden in mad clowns’ mouths
buried under blond coifs

too late   our people witnessed
tsunamis of destruction   hate crime    broken Britain
cowered   trampled under fascist privilege

2.

we parted in shadows of dark winter months
near-defeated by all that came to pass
you touched my wrist
said goodbye and left to give your life
for our last-ditch struggle to survive

you and your kin redeemed lost hope
defeated damned despair

your sacrifice stirred apathy to action
late in the day   truth dawned
we are many they are few

our victory…

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