Confined are our homes
nothing there is,
except our prescence
far from love and care
may our woes
be taken by ink of pens
may our cries
be audible to all nations
Steak reaches our homes
from the helper's hands
it's binged on by big dogs
we puppies squeeze in corners
while big dogs eat with growls
the aroma is all that fills
our bellies in needs
may our woes
be taken by ink of pens
may our cries
be audible to all nations
nov2011 tanzania
we puppies squeeze in corners while big dogs eat with growls I'm doing it again, picking out a couple of lines I particularly like... I like the poem as a whole, but this couplet gives me a clear picture of the unfairness of life.
Like it, enjoyed reading it a great poem. May i invite you to read my new poem called, Drug Fueled.
Like it, enjoyed reading it a great poem. May i invite you to read my new poem called, Drug Fueled.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem says a lot about someone (or some people) who has been abandund with no one caring for him. It sounds sad. The ''puppies'' are just there watching what ought to have been for them being snatched away by those who are stronger. I like the poem. KEEP IT UP!