Epitaphs in Verse - Reflections in the Eyes of a Poet

The eyes behind a head inclined reflect a universe

      Of shanty towns and kings in crowns and parties in a hearse,

      Of heaping mounds of coffee grounds and pennies in a purse,

      Of heart attacks in shoddy shacks, of motion in reverse,

      Of reasons why pale kids must die, quite trite and curtly terse,

      Of puppet people at the steeple, kneeling down averse,

      Of tinkle tones and megaphones with empty words and worse,

      Of life’s begin’ in utter sin and other things perverse,

      Of lewd taboos and residues contained within the Curse,

While poets blind, in gallows’ rind, carve epitaphs in verse.

Reviews

[Beccy]

Reading this again, (not my first revisit,) I remain saddened that our words still fall on deaf ears.

We are such a cruel species.

Beccy.

[Terry O'Leary]

Thanks, Beccy, for reading and commenting again!
Yes, we do seem to be cruel, irrational, ...
but I still try to maintain a little hope...
Terry

[Beccy]

Oh, those pale kids and those puppet people at the steeple, and all those words that seem to have less effect than a single bullet.

Stark lines that chronicle all that is wrong in this world.

If I swore, which I don't, I would simply say, b***** brilliant. Beccy.

[Terry O'Leary]

Thank you, Beccy...
Yeah... lots of stuff wrong... But
your words of encouragement are simply b***** heartening... ;-))
Terry

[iand63]

simply brilliant really enjoyed the lyrical quality of this honest work

[Terry O'Leary]

Thank you, iand63...
glad you enjoyed!!