Change The Channel

A poem about something everyone does.

Through plasma screens,

We hear the screams

Of a woman

Who has lost her words.

 

Among the heavy

Dust and debris,

Which lifeless child’s

Body was hers?

 

It’s too depressing.

Not worth upsetting

Yourself over

A stranger’s grief.

 

Across the nations,

T.V stations

Are glad that

news reports are brief.

Reviews

[Skin]

'King Superb,

[Sweets]

Nice poem. Short and brief, I loved it (: