A Reflection | Poem

A Reflection

 

Boat’s blades slash the reflection

of whitewashed forts on stagnant waters

flocked by tourists and locals alike

the dike is barren of soldiers

who’ll lunge the clock hands past

propagandas sown not by our own fears

and years of locking our clocks to the chime

of big ben’s tick tock – we’re a mock.

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