Wednesday, January 20, 2016


Race
By
Charlotte McCoy


So what if we don't win the race?
We are still somebody's ace
We all have our own style and grace
We can set a slower pace
And even stop to tie our lace.


Risk
By
Charlotte McCoy

Leaders rich
Beating fury sticks
For kicks
Fingers pointing, waving fists

Some might risk
Raising clenched fists
Above the mist
For this human race

We ponder…
Dropping drone bombs
Is wrong…
Then march along...


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