Gingerbread Blues

Well I woke up this morning, crying for my gingerbread.
I woke up this morning, crying for my gingerbread.
The beating of my heart was like the hammer of the dead.

The light we see as starlight has travelled for a million years.
Every instant of today is refracted through our tears.
I poured out my sorrow like the water on the weirs.

I heard the whistle blowing, blowing for far Iraq.
I heard the Banshee of the engine wail 'Some of them boys will not come back'.
I saw the binding of our liberty to that engine's track.

I saw a empty building full of mannequins.
I saw the windows of Cathedral Close look down upon our sins
And I cursed the dark and the fear it underpins.

Stuff my mouth with cotton, blind my eyes with lead,
It's only the spirit of revolt that marks the living from the dead.
I heard the Man in the Moon crying for his gingerbread.

I heard the Man in the Moon crying for his gingerbread.

K.M.Payne

If you've any comments on this poem, K.M.Payne would be pleased to hear from you.