Who do you think you can blame?: A poem 

Do you think you can blame, 

the bird that you made lame? 

So, that you do not feel shame? 

I may not have the wings of angels 

to flee from selfish greedy predators 

But compelled to be an unwilling gladiator 

treacherised and tortured by a traitor 

I can only think that, later 

in time, the unjust abattoir 

will self-destruct, and the souls of the slain 

will be, somehow, regained 

I had put all my aspirations in the locker 

not because I feared the grim reaper 

but because I would not subject myself 

to his talons of hijacking 

Do you think you can make me 

bedfellow with the conspirator? 

I know evil when I see it 

and know that it doesn’t befit 

the condoning that it seeks to compel and demand 

I am not deserving of Sodom and Gomorrah 

and I can’t be belied like Adam 

I imagine my oasis, my Paradisical loves 

even though I have to reckon with a stark desert for my unrelenting wisdom