The gladiator ring is no place for children,
But that's where you will find their hearts.
Swords clashing loud and clear
Like the bells of Notre Dame tolling
Calling those in pain to its doors.
If you only knew, dear mother and father
What goes on behind the walls of brick.
Echoes laugh and bounce around them.
Torturous screams ringing in your ears.
And you do nothing to save the souls.
Once you were the eye of the storm.
Surrounded by flashes of white, painted nails.
Until the vile sting of diamonds on your face
With thick mud running down in neat lines.
The ring that once shined like stars.....
YOU ARE READING
Out of Words
Poetry"She was fascinated with words. To her, words were things of beauty, each like a magical powder or potion that could be combined with other words to create powerful spells- Dean Koontz" Original poem collection.
