Like a fox, Donald Trump creeps out the box;
the box of malice, destruction and perpetual austerity.
The layman sits in his rocking chair, and
scratching his hair he wonders; what has gone wrong
These powers from Eton need to be beaten
so that we can salvage the mess caused
from this distress. Shattered glass sparkles on
the dewy grass, and the wind screams,
shouts and pleads for justice among the impecunious.
The parliament petrichor drifts into our nostrils,
to inform us of even more policies, as the night
sky becomes tumultuous and eldritch. The stars are
Darkness cascades our surroundings.
Tears shed, filthy bed, relatives dead.
The ravens of ramification link us pertinaciously,
as though we are a nodule of peat.
Crops of wheat wilt, as does the economy.
Billowing smoke is exhaled from grimy chimneys
like a bull breathing out of its nostrils on
a biting, wintry day. The same mist plasters the cracks of truth.
Scratching his head, he wants honesty.
But time slips through his fingers like quicksand
as he realises that darkness will never be ignited with a flame of prosperity.
The clock face halts, then ceases.
Another life claimed in the claws of the beast.
Tinkle, tinkle, goes the rain,
the everlasting sunray of disdain.
by Cameron White (15)
Wootton Upper School, Bedford
Competition - The Poetry Trials
Copyright remains with the author.