I won’t be there

A torn rag flung down –

a weak pulse

the only movement

of my broken body,

as the cold wet concrete

forms my sarcophagus.


I have

one hundred



I claim my liberation,

in this space,

the realisation,

this is not my fault.


Unchained from control,

my mind glows white,

just one more soul

to be lost to this night.


Why should my time halt?

Why at this unknown location?

What, just for this disgrace,

this version of a nation?


To serve

the greed

of its evil elites?


Deepening darkness

seeps across this world as

some perverse disease,


angry faces shouting at

innocents on their knees,

futures stolen and

freedoms crushed,

gleaming metals to

turn to rust,

Hatred screaming

from the skies and

Mercy lost in

bloodshot eyes.


And we find ourselves

repulsed by the

inferiority of

superiority as the

banners of

hate are



These grey clouds will lift,

their cool shadows fading

with the promise of the sun,

and spirits will be soaring

from the ground up to the skies,

as light flows around in shining eyes,

I feel arms around

that won’t be moved as shaking goes,

I can feel the gentle rain,

I can feel the fresh air,

I can feel the warmth –


but I

won’t be there.


And I

won’t be there,

when again the world will see



There is one thing

you can do for me,

make a promise

from the future that I will not see,

to remember how these dreadful days

were nothing but a passing phase,

and to still know right, and to

never lose your fight,

because I believe

in time you will see

people being friends

from whichever country,

yes it takes some time for

our stone age skulls

to problem solve,

but I believe

that we will

evolve, and

when we do

I even believe

we will reach for the stars –

but I need someone to believe for me.


Nearby thorny gorse

have scented flowers flushing,

more yellow than the sun.

Within some future echo

far past memory,

will someone find a sprig

and lay it on this wall?

Light and shadows cycle past,

as ripples fold upon the shore,

I hope someone, some day,

will think of me once more.

A tribute to the victims of the Organisation Todt, who suffered and died at the hands of the Nazis, in the Channel Islands and across Europe.

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