Brexit
You and I are not the same although,
We breath one air. Yet I still know,
That we could make it work. We,
Fed our frightening spree.
Rather with you then,
Alone again.
As hate nighs,
Big Ben,
Dies.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
