Anne Clark Poets Turmoil Number 364
Keep me back in the real world From which we try to run Music and words don't mean anything Through the barrel of a gun A poem cannot heal a wound Books won't help you find That something which you're searching for But just add questions to the mind Tell me now in black and white What you're supposed to do When fists and knives and sticks and boots Come raining down on you A painted picture on a wall Can't justify a life When the weak and poor cannot escape Their uglinessand strife The actor in a bridge of words Leading us to nowhere Dressed in costumes to disguise The reality of despair The poets turmoil strikes again As once more words they fail me Another bomb has just supplied The cross on which to nail me .
