To its knees

Amidst all young daffodils,
a tombstone made of fears.
No-one knows your shadow will,
build world's fortress of tears.

Hunting another cheap thrill,
these riots bring me to my knees.
The world, in fear, keeps still,
not knowing what it will receive.

Hiding between truncheons and shields;
you're making this whole scene obscene.
Deafening them all for the help this town needs.
And I pass myself down to my knees,
I pass myself down to my knees.

Amidst all young daffodils,
a graveyard made of grief.
No-one knows your shadow will,
bring this town to its knees.

Amidst trodden grass,
a ground soaked with blood.
No-one knows your shadow has,
shoveled this town up like muck.

Anita©