A poem about The Killing Fields, Cambodia

Chancer3001

Inner Beauty?


Here lie the countless unnamed,
A legacy of a country that's shamed.
A despot, a Pol Pot
A world, who cared not.

Here lies the beauty, the clever, the smart,
The geek, the weak, the lover of art.
The beauty queen with looks so fair,
The wizened woman with wiry hair.
Side by side in eternal tomb,
Dense together, sands of gloom.

The Killing Fields, theyre killing me,
Babies smashed on the killing tree.
Pol Pots petty death decree,
Learned men would not be free.

The skull of the girl aftaid to talk
Sits atop the skull who graced catwalk.
Angry aunt of face of frown
Under upbeat uncle - teeth to crown.
Would they talk to you, say a nice word?
10,000 skulls - now spot the nerd...

Opposites attract now, bold meet meek
Forever entangled now, cheek to cheek.
Wary of teeth, afraid to smile
Pick a jawbone from the pile.

See some skulls, both broken and shattered.
Realise now, none of it mattered.
Scant substance to our earthly woes,
As bony brittle as your nose.
Disappears with the pass of time
Now to make a tourists rhyme...

A.Partridge

Well done!

I like the second stanza in particular. Lovely rhythm.