Our Own Hell

I heard school children at play

On a late December day.

Soon I will turn 57.

Will I be nearer to heaven?

Or to hell?

I’ve heard mythologists tell

How gods play

With women and men,

And how we have no chance against them.

On this winter’s day

In late December, I know that our fate

Lies in man’s hands.

When the jackboots stamp in the concentration camps

Men create living hell

And no gods weep.

	K Morris Poet on Table Dancing
	K Morris Poet on Table Dancing
	V.M.Sang on Table Dancing
	K Morris Poet on Table Dancing
	K Morris Poet on Indifference

K Morris – Poet