Wednesday, January 13, 2016
I sit back as the evening draws closer,
My snout is of an eye, my endeavours duplicate.
Two eyes arise, with the spectacles in the collision,
This man fought my brain and body.
I sat to the music of the times, such time spoke
Like children, and my arms surrounded me
With decisions, like the election of living
In the cosmos, as snoring as sleep.
I forgave the offending men, the smells of a day
In ruin, a riotous few enveloped the majority,
Where are your accused men? The shame is in
Your eyes and snout, like the vile diseases.
Topic(s) of this poem: fight