Childish
The boy, he drowns in it,
That double-breasted flesh blanket,
Striped and stylish upside down noose,
It's too hard to get loose.
Death delayed as he sees the tree,
The checkered lag finally waves,
He's the champion of this Grand Prix
against the non-competing slaves
Copyright © Al Amin Abdul Moin | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment