Atlanta on Fire

One week a tale of justice told,
seven days on… the system slips.
Naught resolved, bound for quips and snips.
For there’s nothing that’s better gold,
than slips for the cycle to hold.
The din will last a day or two,
threatening all those wearing the blue.
I understand the anger shown.
A foe’s escape cuts to the bone.
Give the boss an ‘I Failed’ tattoo.

How to write an Espinela or Décima poem.

My entry for this week’s Décima Poetry Challenge NO. 56 (GOLD).

© 2021- Ronovan Hester Copyright reserved. The author asserts his moral and legal rights over this work.