Spares And Scissors Poem by Ifeoluwa Philips

Spares And Scissors



Lifeless in womb
All like a hell in tomb
Wellness afar of the life
Blood of a thin line high to live
Some songs of the nature
Blood flooding and abort the nurtured
With spares and scissors
Tools for the hands of the oppressors
Slanting the formed of a bairn within
Cries of the blind in the womb
With tied hands to until wound
Why hailing stupidity
When apes in suit of society
Arose mood of pleasure
Creating sound of groans for the unborn
Isn't hell beautiful for such aborted child
When they cry in loud
No sound pickup to trans to the cloud
With joy of sorrow
And death at a narrow
Pleading the still live to leave
Why at first created to live
Skin of shame around the mind
As the heart in a bloody breath
I cried sorrowfuly when I saw the garage of the unborn
All crawling with no mission
Sight blur and gone vission
No light but the thick darkness
I saw my tears on my knees
And I lost my strength of humanity
Bread for the fools
Is a waste for the wise
Let all hands on desk
With tears and hands on pen
Sign NO TO ABORTIONS...

Sunday, August 2, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: abortion
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Deluke Muwanigwa 02 August 2020

Lovely imaginery and metaphors

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