The Smoking Gun.
_____________
Blood on the streat,
An empty fairy heart,
Finding a place to go.
A fairy lion roar.
A scary gun point.
Smoking from it mouth.
War knocking by the door,
And deadly trabs on floor,
O' for the leaders rift,
A bewildering affectionte,
Fighting for just a thrown,
And playing the lives of men,
Let me take my lamp,
And leave only a stamp,
For the blood on the streat,
Could stain my purely white,
WRITTEN BY
AYORINDE EMMANUEL OLOWOEYO
KNOWN AS' Kolawole Emmanuel
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem