17th January 1944

on the day of my birth
the 'Three Kings' were conspicuously absent
misled by the black and blazing heavens
and the searchlights stabbing upwards
illuminating the falling stars
screaming young men's burning bodies
falling to earth from
Stukas, Spitfires, Messerschmitts , Hurricanes and Dorniers
my arrival greeted by the pounding rhythm
of the cacophonic ack-ack guns
flash-bang, flash-bang, flash-bang
number 94 two doors down
explodes into a smoking shower
a volcano spewing white-hot house bricks
and the mangled remains of a family life into the street

Poetry by Wumbulu
Read 634 times
Written on 2016-09-02 at 15:33

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Very well said, and the sad thing is that children continue to be born under the same circumstances.
A very powerful write.

Very powerful.

ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
An exulant work.