Pride

Another one of my odd poems

Foot on a stone, gem in a fist
Neck stretched, fluttering hair
Ripped bodies on the ground
Brown mud, red cloak.

Jolly procession marching the road
Songs, wines and soldiers conquering
Weapons held high by glowing sun
Spleens, flies and steps.

Bullets flying, bombs blowing
A small child walks by the
shops, with broken limbs,
Blind as justice.