Swan song By Lewis Webb
- Tin Can Poetry
- Jan 10, 2024
- 1 min read
On Sunday, I’ll watch
As the flames flicker in the distance
Sliding closer every second
And I’ll think about Monday
And what I’m having for tea
On Monday I’ll walk with a limp
For I am a kite with wings clipped
A car park in the rainforest
On Saturday, I will dress
White shirt with a black stain
On the label, manufacturer error
Laces tied sharply,
Trousers pressed within an inch
The breath of the birds as they circle,
The eyes in the river as it shakes
The gun lying under the iceberg
A bullet away, so easy
The trigger of change is heavyOn Sunday, I’ll watch
As the flames flicker in the distance
Sliding closer every second
And I’ll think about Monday
And what I’m having for tea
On Monday I’ll walk with a limp
For I am a kite with wings clipped
A car park in the rainforest
On Saturday, I will dress
White shirt with a black stain
On the label, manufacturer error
Laces tied sharply,
Trousers pressed within an inch
The breath of the birds as they circle,
The eyes in the river as it shakes
The gun lying under the iceberg
A bullet away, so easy
The trigger of change is heavy
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