Five of us sat around the table
eating ice cream and apple pie.
But in between the laughter
and the sips of wine
silence fell and talked so loud
with all the words we left unsaid.
How long the road ahead seemed then
back in the days when we were young.
Full of adventure
in each twist and every turn
and city walls with giant towers,
with parapets and citadels to burn.
Prophets of the revolution.
The thirst, the burning hunger,
the rages of the soul and of the flesh.
A poster of Che Guevara in every bedsit,
Afghan coats, afro hair,
and bells around our necks.
But how short the road ahead is now.
The drums of war no longer beating
and the city walls still standing strong.
The old flag still flying on the turrets
and our armies wrecked
and laying in ruins at the city doors.
Four of us sit around the table
eating ice cream and apple pie.
But in between the laughter
and the sips of wine
silence falls and talks so loud
with all the words we leave unsaid.
Chris Zachariou
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-words-we-leave-unsaid/
