You set fire to the hills I nourished back to life,
You poisoned the rivers and sharpened the knives.
In the grand confusion, I gave up all my reason
And watched as the smoke turned darker each season.
The greenery grew paler with each word you spoke.
I knew there was no escape, so I became a ghost –
A fantasy, a tale to tell kids in winter evenings.
You liquidated my story, changed its real meaning.
As I stood in the dust of what was once a garden,
You said those undying words:
“One more chance to ask for a pardon.”
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 