At the beat of a drum,
The world changed,
Blamed on many,
Caused by few.

At the still of a heart,
The world stopped,
Spun by many,
Ceased by two.

At the loss of a soul,
The world cried,
Tears of many,
All for you.

Dedicated to the family and memory of Drummer Lee Rigby, born July 1987, senslessly taken from the world, 22nd May 2013

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The trees, so hidden well by thickened wood,
While senses hide behind the deep despair,
He, ridiculed by those that can’t but should
And persecuted by those that once did care.

As fingers point and clone the loaded gun;
They choose a victim crying on his knees,
To watch him beg for solitude, in one
And disregard his perennial pleas.

The rights and wrongs of progress bliste...

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Withered flowers fastened to a wasting bench,
Its plaque and pickled paint are weathered long.
The buckled slats curl flecks on harshest winter's freeze.
Where age defies intent to which it did belong.

As passers-by whom in their daily cues entrenched,
They, wrapped in woolen shields, look blindly on
And notice not the broken petals on the breeze,
Nor sense the echo of a parted...

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