At My Door Poem by Francie Lynch
At My Door
A cancer's spreading
Through our core,
With tendrils reaching
Every shore;
A virus leaping firewalls,
A sickness too apalling;
Advancing by some sick allure.
No use in praying for a cure,
Its saviour is a saboteur;
No vaccine can kill its spore.
Its mucous is racist;
Its nucleus is sexist;
Its atoms are prejudiced;
Its carriers are bigots;
And it's hungering for more;
It's at my front door.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/26/2024 11:11:37 AM # 1.0.0.1119
yes terrorism is at our front door, we have to find out a way to get out of it, well composed poem, thanks for sharing.