A Conscription Of Fire And Loss
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Peter Lake, Grade 12
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Poetry
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2008
The post fled here along a crackling road,
and Dad opened it immediately.
But his hands caught fire,
as he read with scalding eyes.
Then, saying but one word,
he got up and left on a mission,
protesting out the door ā
Iām stranded here on an uncertain fence,
as the government fastened the clocks.
Later they came and seized his old possessions,
To be preserved in a memorial -
Because they had previously diagnosed
his conscriptions implications,
They took most of him ā
Obviously there is nothing in this town,
But a Government hypocrisy.