London July 2005 ©
Marc R. Sherland
Underground, the train shudders to a halt,
Ahead explosion shatters peace and calm,
And silence spreads, the opposite of balm,
Too early to attribute blame or fault.
The emergency services rush to aid,
And screaming sirens match the panic folk,
With broken bodies, shells with spilled out yolk,
The chance of fate recedes, as hope here fades.
How can they justify such lack of care,
Those who employ terror in their daft cause?
The injured stand, or wounded bleed and stare,
And we demand the truth to form new laws.
That time nor justice, makes it safe to bear,
The outrage of my heart, makes love grow spare.