The Dictator
He stood there on
the gallows
waiting to be
hanged,
the dictator feared
by so many,
he looked frail and
human,
yet, there was
a dignity about
him,
he didn’t beg
for his life.
And when it was over
his executioners
looked pale and
spoke with
hushed voices,
I sensed the cruel
dictator
had won his last battle
AucklandPoetry.com presents Poet Resident JAN OSKAR HANSEN on http://OSKAR.AUCKLANDPOETRY.COM
Thursday, June 28, 2007
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