Murder of an Angel
Of course we shall be rescued
While we are waiting we will have a good time, we'll have rules
This is a good island, no beasties
That first enthusiastic exploration
Feet left prints in the soft soil, we climbed the mountain
Conch forgotten, tottery shelters, dirty boys, the fire's all out
Savages raised their spears and spoke in time
A skinny vivid little boy
Blood stains spread on the pale beach
An accident, I wasn't scared
Let him alone, he was batty
Oh God I want to go home
Where is he now?
Beneath the silver steadfast constellations
The last place where sunshine fell
This poem is about:
Our world
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