Ode to Owen

An Ode to Wilfred Owen in the style of ‘Dulce et decorum est’ Knives carve off limbs, flesh torn, dangling, serrated,As skin mangled from claws on Christmas Turkey,In war cries, angry men’s lives are narrated,The line between liberation and invasion is ever murky,Boys with blood sullied hands grip hair on severed heads,Those that could haveContinue reading “Ode to Owen”