The Internet Poetry Archive

Untitled

Roger Dennie


Up the road
round the bend
where the pavement
comes to an end
a girl stands and stares
at the trees that grow there
at the shadows that lurk there
she sees danger everywhere.

In the undergrowth of her soul
where love and innocence should play
a cancerous tuber has grown
a childhood snatched away.

It is the crimes we commit
the evil we do
that turns trees into devils
and shadows and darkness too.

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