Internal Troops (Day Twenty-Five: Breaking the Rules)

You play hopscotch in a minefield disguised as a quiet street
under surveillance from gas mask faces with crosshair eyes
they’re wearing batons like stilts to look like giants
one false attribute will get you killed
’cause it’s their world
you just die in it


Prompt: Breaking the rules

Written for OctPoWriMo 2020. 31 poems, 31 days.

I do have another micropoetry project, that strives to use as few lines as possible with every poem. That particular project is a bit more about taking refuge in audacity. Although it’s an offshoot of this style, I didn’t want to go full ham on the poem, so I settled for a comfortable via media.

The title took a bit of consideration, but the poem pretty much wrote itself once I had the finisher.

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