Small though he was, a wren amongst eagles,
he tried to fly with bullet holed wings.
angels don't belong, she said, here on this battle field,
we're too slow to dodge the quickfire words hitting bullseye.
but never, he said,does it kill but only wounds and so,
I try to fly with bullet holed wings.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An amazing poem is brilliantly penned. Amusing expression. Thanks for sharing.10