The pointlessness of it…


The haunting refrain of the old church bell
Was at odds to the din being made down below
Yet its purity of sound soon got lost in the wind
As the now late old sinner lost his blood in the snow.

He was just a street man with no one to care
His life had been ruined by cheap booze and drugs
And he now lay all stiff and so cold in the dark
This soul had been kicked at and stabbed by young thugs.

The police had been called and the Sarge shook her head
At the waste and how savage was such crime
As yet another soul had departed this life
And for what! There’s no reason or rhyme.

Yet still the sound of the haunting old bell
Echoes forlornly o’er the quiet dark town
And the chances of finding those guilty this time
So unlikely as police numbers keep going down.

Totally unmissed
No one to care
Dead on a corner
Utter despair!

©Joe Wilson – The pointlessness of it…2019

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