In a pink cloud of pain
Blood does rain
As it falls to the earth
And returns again
Its taste is red
Where the rainbow bled
From a butcher that cut
Ideas out of my head
Raw, living thoughts cannibalized
The bruatality civilized
By a political janitor sanitized
The word pirate schemes
To muffle the screams
Of verbal genocide, under the dust of
dun spattered dreams
Good poem, what a word-surgeon -" living thoughts cannibalised."…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'bruatality' spelling typo : ) MAYBE the poet would make a better poem if not concentrating as much on rhyming. Sometimes some poems don't 'work' for me.