The poet
I'm a poet
My words examines the sores of the nation.
Answer me!
Why do you plunder the earth?
Spilling crimson juice on the sand i tread in the
name of your beliefs?
We have the rain and the rainbow
But all we do is maim; shattering the esrth's paraphsnalia.
We escort ourselves like termites,
Planting epataphs on mass graves.
You famer!
For how long will continue this fatelessness?
Turning your land into a citadel of maim,
Where your kins men find untimely rests.
Let these word like echo
To ceaseless eternity
This poem is about:
My country
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: