bigot, with your dry bones.
you slain, then slaughter
into these 4 winds.
and your mean words drop
like bombs, and your hatred
kills every thing that it touches,
but not love, no, not true love.
BIGOT,with your giant ,slender,
populated self,there is life there,
and to prove it ,your shadow yells
out...........let me out.
|
Email this Poetry
|
Add to reading list






