Cried the beggar, “cant you see me and my crippled limbs,
Write about me o’poet and my fight for bread crumbs.”
Cried the mother, “write about me oh poet,
I have a son on the borders to be sent.”
“where’s your attention dear poet?” roared the king of the jungle.
“ you have killed me and left my skin with flies to mingle.”
“ o my see what you have done to me.” sobbed the oak.
“I have been stabbed and cut and my branches all broke.”
“ stop it, stop it!” pleaded the poet.
“ I shall write about all of you dears.” He said.
Eyes stinging with tears.
1 comment:
Nobody but you could have said so much with so little words....!!
Nice to see your posts after so long!!Keep it coming!
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