The Old House Needed No More Poem by chew cheng yew

The door of woe-
is locked by once again-
by the my key that is-
made of eternal senerity.

Now, i'm standing outside-
the emblematic, malicious building-
holding a grenade with the path-
of mercy no more.

Wholeheartedly, i throw it with-
my tranquil soul.

The small green shell drops on the-
ground of the house and it explodes-
to the point of blissfulness.

The house of forlorness finally-
is burning with the fire of benevolence.

Glaring at it, the scene allows me to giggle with-
no full-stop in the act of the house of antagonism verges on-
the state of being dilapidated.

'Home defines the graciousness and bruteness of-
a soul.'