Tales From A Broken Society

The Time To Rise

We sit
We talk
Words flowing
The sublime to the ridiculous again.

No more than an itch
on the thigh of the faithful.

The faithful
Now there’s a concept
Faithful to what?
A belief?
An idea?
Or a realisation that without a fight nothing comes easy
At least not to the likes of us.

Dirty tricks, misfits A stick in the eye of the non-believers
Our worth in exchange
For a tick in a box.

But we’re more than that
More than the tat
That hangs from the windows of the blind.

Blue -tac provided
Sides undecided
Still the war rages on
The war of the righteous
The war of the fighters
We’ve nothing to lose.

And that’s the point!

Reah Roberts ©2012


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