counting bodies like sheep
do not be nervous little ones
the world is not falling apart at the seams
I do not mean to lie but things are not
what they seem (to be)
in fact these happenings may just
be a figment of some lesser god’s
imagination
and those drums coming nearer
gaining ground even while you’re sleeping
what are they even doing here
and how did they earn privilege
to beat upon the children
september two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
footote:
loosely based on song of similar
title by A Perfect Circle
A Perfect Circle youtube video
jdubqca 
Haunting poem, John. I like this one a lot!
Thanks, Millie, I’m elated that you do!
Love this one. Foreboding. The ending is profound.
Thank you so very much, Melanie, I’m thrilled you think so.
Maybe violence is just like a food chain… most of us are not top predators.
yes I would agree – a chain recycling on auto pilot….
Love this poem and the title!
Thanks so very much, Kristina.
You are very good, Sir.
thank you very much (once again)