Thoughts of ethical dilemmas
and moral diplomas
flood my mind.
Sun setting symbolically
shuts the scruples off,
and my conscience crumples to the floor.
Bloody battered and tired
it will only wake
when the sun rises again.
Author notes
6. Curfews for the conscience
A contest entry
- Pif PROMPT CONTEST by penman.
750 points, ended June 8, 2008, 10 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Many things in this world are there to try our conscience, batter it and leave us drained... a time of rest and recovery is always necessary after that I find.
Love this!
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Wonderful
Very well done. Best of luck in the contest.
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Good. :)
It's really good and has a lot of meaning, even though it has so few words. I think because it has these characteristics, it makes you a great poet. -
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Thank-you for reading. Your compliment means a lot to me.
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