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He carried the burden
of a poet in flight
from an army of quills
persuing their rights
and he wept at the door
of the author of shame
who whispered his fate
who bloodied his name
and the chorus of song
that scripted the light
it shone through the bars
with parallel fright
and the beckoning crowd
demanded their scene
and carried him high
all filthy and clean
but the readers who paused
not knowing the end
all tried to imagine
some image to send

pete

A poet's poem .

Pete~

This poem has wonderful rhythm. I like the quiet violence of it.
Thanks for sharing,
Laurie