Australian poet, Australian traditional poetry, Civil War, Disunity, Formal poetry, poem, poetry, sonnet, Spenserian sonnet
It’s obvious; the split is now too wide.
There is no chance such gaping wounds can heal.
There is no common ground — a stark divide;
No compromise; no way to cut a deal.
But stay united for the common weal?
Forget it — that would surely end in woe.
A separation will a truth reveal —
That old one — all will reap but what they sow.
For one’s intent is high, the other’s low;
And nature’s laws suggest the first will win.
It’s time to end this endless to and fro;
The union must now take it on the chin.
The best outcome would be a swift divorce;
A civil war’s unthinkable of course.
— D.N. O’Brien