Todays council estate adolescent. Rebels and all, Crimes commited like a cancer. - 08 May 2006


Renegade snare.

Separate claims of justice,

Cross-roads of lies and

Many accusations of a blind.

 

Tender caress of a smile,

Enmesh the rebel to crease

The hate and to reconcile.

 

Temptation of repeat crises,

In a world that doesn’t care –

Renegade snare.

 

Rebel in you pushed

With only three fingers.

Thus it lingers; mutinous.

 

Schismatic happenings

Shake hands with the Benedict Arnold.

 

The Renegade Snare is growing old.

 

Roguish allegations thrown

Over the arms of those

Who care; those unknown.

 

So the snare of enticement

Edges another like a virus

And eats away at them.





Poetry by John Ashleigh
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Written on 2006-05-09 at 00:12

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Kathy Lockhart
I see the three fingers as: 1) claims of Justice, 2) cross-roads of lies, and 3) accusations of the blind....John you have said in this poem so much about what happens in this world everday. Ignorant people willing to place false judgements on others because they put their faith in the so called establishment and their haughty, arrogant, self-righteous, profession of "right." Thank you, I agree! kathy
2006-05-14



Makes you wondere where the two remaining fingers are....
2006-05-09