Slowly and gradually the match turned in a war,
The players were not playing they were fighting.
It was a body play.
The crowd was divided in two groups,
The Allied Group and the Axis Group,
The current of fight was induced in the crowd.
Spectators started fighting and killing each other,
Two fat boys joined the two phases
and doubled the voltage.
A fire out broke in the eastern portion of the stadium
casualties could not be correctly calculated,
anyway the match was ended!
More than seventy years have passed.
The two fat boys became old and stale.
So many boys much fatter then the two
have made a club of fat boys!
This time they are not white wolves.
This time they are brown wolves.
The two boys once again!
I see them in a greater stadium,
I am afraid,
this time they will put the whole stadium on fire,
nobody will be there to count the casualties!
Fat boys! Bad boys!
An amazing poem.....thoroughly enjoyed the humor...................10
Hatred! Wickedness! ! The match turned in a war! ! ! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
A great political write. So incisive and insightful. Yes, these groups will create a war ten times more dangerous than the first. Another brilliant write from a great and clever Poet.
and more: I do not believe nuclear war will occur, and if it does, .....so what? ? ? ? would it be a great loss. maybe 'god' would do better to start over and try to do better! ! ! ! bri (: to MyPoemList
(cont.) 2 - fat boys in WW2? Hitler & Mussolini against Churchill & Roosevelt? which were bad? all of them? i say not all of the audience were fans or fighters. at least not fighters by choice. now are you speaking of Middle Eastern boys? Asian boys? what ARE brown boys? bri (:
1 - i would use turned into a war, a play, wolves, not wolfs. i Googled and found this: in a noun ending in f, replace f with ves to make the plural of the noun. [bri does not know if this is ALWAYS true] Examples Calf =calves Thief = thieves Half = halves Knife = knives (sometimes it's applicable to word ends with ‘fe' also) (cont.)
YEAH UR MEMORY IS GOOD AND TRUE U WERE SIR BORN THEN IN1945 To flag it off
fattiness is quite jolliness in my side I see so many fatties I try to snap them and they call the POLICE another guy so fatty I run slowly they can't catch me I can't run fast enough they not at all so being fatty is a boon too keep the humour up
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A thoughtful metaphor!