Hand Of the armor
Vicious indeed to have such blessings in your hands
those filthy hands that filled with my blood
strolling in the pavement that I cleaned for you
thus the word conscience can stumbled in your obscure mind?
or greediness are the only thing you admired?
I pity oneself for having you as a friend
taking care of you as if we have the same ancestor
but it turns out that you are the foe
believing in your wit facade
the wolf in a sheep clothes-indeed!
This poem is about:
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: