Murder of an Angel

Of course we shall be rescued

While we are waiting we will have a good time, we'll have rules

This is a good island, no beasties

That first enthusiastic exploration

Feet left prints in the soft soil, we climbed the mountain

Conch forgotten, tottery shelters, dirty boys, the fire's all out

Savages raised their spears and spoke in time

A skinny vivid little boy

Blood stains spread on the pale beach

An accident, I wasn't scared

Let him alone, he was batty

Oh God I want to go home

Where is he now?

Beneath the silver steadfast constellations

The last place where sunshine fell

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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