Slavery Poem by SRIRANJI ARATISANKAR
Slavery
Rating: ★5.0
Lick up your spittle; how sweet Sir!
Your figure anointed with slush and dirt, lick up
Oozing blood and pus from your ulcer; lick up
Lick up your shoes treading
Spittle of chewed betel, snot, dead fetid mouse....
Oh Sir, Let me be a slave
Till you beat me with a shoe made of gold.
Sunday, June 5, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: slavery
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5/24/2024 6:36:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
