War

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Personal poem.

The people I met before,

made war with us.

We had to stay in the loft,

instead of the basement.

 

Everywhere were fire-arms,

and I had a child;

whom I had to protect,

a tiny little baby.

 

Finally they find us,

a woman approached us;

and with a board in her hands,

she came kicking me.

Against my skull;

I fooled around.


Submitted: May 22, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Mad Prophetess. All rights reserved.

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