With a nod to Emily.

With a nod to Emily.

Hope had its feathers plucked today

Or maybe they all fell out

Too many sad things

Happen to good people

Somebody laid poison

It might be for the rats

But the pigeons suffer too

Are they really to be treated

Just like vermin

Because they have big families

Burn them out

I hear you say

When did the world

Put a premium on compassion

Is there space enough

Inside my soul

For the safety of innocence

Or did it fly away

When the padlock broke

Under the strain of hypocrisy

As the watchmen pray

For oblivion

Is there a righteous way

To feed their greed

When all the pigeons die

Hope is a lonely prisoner

When sacrifice is just another word

For expedient

Who knows if love will be

Magnificent

When all the birds have flown

There will be nothing left

But feathers,

Without a beating heart

To keep them warm

They are nothing

But a mattress

Waiting for a soul

To need support.