Rolling StoneA Poem by WisconsinOld Drabble, possibly the opening or conclusion to something bigger. I don't know what to do with it yet.The bluebird fell off a fencepost and landed on my feet, dead. Shot through the neck by a .22 rifle. I glanced around; a boy was clutching the gun, dancing.
His parents are negligent, he's doomed to drown in a sea of his own stupidity, and I'm in his crossfire. Disadvantage comes in layers.
I want to change the world.
I've watched as the tower rose--
As the curtain fell,
As the seas caught fire,
As the people became radioactive dust.
Presently, I watch the stone I kicked in frustration come to a rest in the center of the road. © 2008 WisconsinFeatured Review
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13 Reviews Added on February 19, 2008 Last Updated on May 5, 2008 Author
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