I wrote this poem while in the middle of reading Wright's book and Bog Bodies by Glob, they had a common theme, which I didn't expect.
Gentle people, soft yielding young
By righteous mob
Violently killed, throats cut, hung
Naked and trussed
Pushed face down into peaty pools
By people so just
Secured with wood stakes cruel
Point and splinter
Pinning down the rising vampires
In midwinter
The shortest darkest days when fires
Flicker and leap
To bring life back into seeds sewn
In damp soil asleep
Victims frightened forced and alone
To horrid ritual
Of pagan times sprite witch and fairy
Until the dark Yule
Was replaced by Christmas oh so merry!
Black Boy Mr Wright
Puzzled confused hurt and hungry
Huge the fight
To live, so degraded denied unfree
Impossible to be
Printer postman washer waiter
Eyes down keep clear
You don’t belong not now or later
Then the great idea
Communism! at last a home for you
Equality exhilarates
But the cost! your own self true
It annihilates
No thought expression fun awhile
But sacrifice
Of person for party just one smile
Outcast the price
Beaten cursed killed with disgust
Body trussed
By the group so righteous and just