Richard Pierce

Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter

Life, Poetry


The victims are unknown.
No count. No names. No memorial.
In the crossfire of politics,
Everyone dies.

The ricochet of careless words
Cannot be calculated
Nor predicted. The paths of
That particular bullet
Are infinite and unkind.

Blood is invisible.
Hidden beneath crafted
Phrases; lies.

In this snipers’ alley
Only the bystanders fall.

R 27.11.2023 18.55 Mayfair

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