Best Poem of Odey Patricks

Time Bomb
Tick tock in my Head
Beeps the Timer on and on
Events coming to a Head
The Victims feel they'v had enough.

Blood of 'matyrs'
freshly spilled
smoked flesh on splinters held
Sacred grounds a Graveyard now
The Victims feel they've had enough.

Take back those words, Preacher
they . . .
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Home Still
When I arrived, the reception, cold,
was but one of the many surprises.
The Lawn was strange, father's
name no longer the topiary, and
the domestic faces, too,
save the handy maid. I found
no joy in the new blue sofas
much over-did, trying to fit in.
And the hanging aesthetic
of a . . .
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