Circadian Poems

A place to celebrate poetry, poets, and the creative spirit.

Monday, October 16, 2006


By Emily Kline

I weep at
the torn bodies, the destruction of
the continuous escalation of crime
without punishment
of any but the victims.

I do nothing
but write what I see,
what I hear, what I feel.

Does anyone listen?
Even if it is widely received,
does anyone care?
Or does experiencing words on a page
free one from having to take personal actions
to right wrong?

Is the pen mightier than the sword
to attack evil
or merely to commit suicide
from society?

Emily Kline is a graduate student in anthropology and world history.


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