Doors open to violence,
Doesn't close eyes to it.
Nor do toy guns purchased for kids,
Stop them from wishing...
For the real ones to get.
Creating threats and enemies,
Manifests...
Unrest.
Never ending.
Creating threats and enemies,
Returns...
Regrets.
And every wish to have made,
Those steps.
People don't think what will leave,
A rush to judgement...
Come back,
To attack...
A flaunting done undaunted,
To others to enact.
Creating threats and enemies,
Manifests...
Unrest.
Never ending.
People don't think what will leave,
A rush to Judgement...
Come back,
To attack...
With a re-enactment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem