THE RING

THERE IS A RING ABOVE MY HEAD, EVERYWHERE I GO, IT'S WATCHING AND WAITING FOR THAT MOMENT TO GLOW, IF I STAND STILL WILL IT TURN LIKE A STEERING WHEEL, OR WILL IT MOVE UP AND DOWN, NO ONE KNOWS, ONLY GOD BUT HE 'S NOT HERE

AS I CARRY ON MY TRAVELS I SEE PLENTY OF TREES, AS I PASS BY ALL THE BIRDS STOP SINGING, SO I STOP AND WONDER WHY, I TAKE A PEEP UP AND THE RING IS STILL THERE GOING ROUND AND ROUND MAKING ME DIZZY AS I STARE

I WALK SLOWLY TO THE BENCH WHERE I REST FOR A WHILE, AND THE RING IS ABOVE ME IKNOW I CAN FEEL IT, BUT I'M NOT LOOKING ANYMORE, THE BOOKS SAY RINGS BELONG TO ANGELS AND I AGREE THEY MOST CERTAINLY DO

BUT I AM AFRAID THIS RING IS SATAN, A REMINDER OF WHAT I SHOULD DO.

IAN WOOLLEY

THIS POEM HAS JUST BEEN WRITTEN IN 54 SECONDS, IT'S ABOUT THE GULF WAR 1990/1991, SOMETHING I DID, THAT I HAVE TO LIVE WITH

I FELT IT FITTING TO PUT HERE RATHER THAN POEMS OF WAR, AND FOR THOSE WHO CARE LIKE kATHY , jILL, CHRIS,CHRYSTAL, AARON, I STARTED MY YEAR BY CUTTING WRISTS, BECAUSE THE NIGHTMARES GET WORSE EACH YEAR.

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