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Image for the poem Banksy ?

Banksy ?

Commissioned, by needs so profound
the salt that stings an open wound.
Pathos bringing its own cult
hangs the entire wall all by itself.
 
The gallery  to make you gulp
the pleading eyes that ask for help.
Spray can etch a pentagram
to be a lion not a lamb.
 
A spell of everything so wrong
holds the futures on a slender string.
To feel and greet just suffering,
the bubble floats, should we just sit?
 
So tied with no initiative
or pull down tomorrows hopes decal.
The sign that time won't heed our call
 Extinction - Rebellion will succeed.
 
And children not deafened to the need
to make their future evergreen.
Written by slipalong
Published
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