mercy walked a shadowed path, she
ignored the evening news
what would be the point in caring
she had nothing left to lose
drinking sorrow by the bucket
dreaming dreams of hell
pitying the fools that kept her
bound within her shell
time was made for anybody
who can see the way ahead
mercy never thought about it
was enough she wasn’t dead
savagely they fell upon her
beat her to the stony ground
even with such provocation
mercy did not make a sound
searching for her life’s direction
while the pious preyed aloud
came at last to her conclusion
torn apart by baying crowd

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  1. damommza

     /  May 13, 2012

    One of your finest and most cutting poems yet. Your deliberate use of “pious PREYING aloud” is exactly what is happening in political spheres all over the world. Mercy never had a chance. Lots of applause for this one. πŸ˜€

    • Thank you, though I’ll let you into a secret: when I started writing it I thought “mercy” was a person, it wasn’t until I was half way through that I saw the possibilities πŸ˜€


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