Time To Come
From the earnest, solemn whispers of promises to come
To the whispering slap of the bullet from the gun
There were few records of that which had changed
That innocent child to a madman deranged.
If words could speak louder and reverse the shape
Of the acceptance of the inevitable without escape
From the decimating power that fires from a gun
Then promises could be kept in the time that’s to come.
© 2016, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.