Ahmet Kurt Poet Blank verse

Don'T Be Born

Don't be born,
Our hands cut ice,
Stubbornness
Who knows what street woman is,
We hear about your perish
That affectionate kindness.

Here are great accounts
People are small,
Innocent people are elected
And they have unlimited load

Don't be born
Our air gasp
Our mountains are occupied,
Our flowers have forgotten their roots,
Now our feelings are virtual,
Our souls are dead,
They're doomed
Cherub Puppies

Take me forever,
Evil,
My body trembling in the flame,
Don't be born, kid,
Conceiving new days,
Pocket with the wallet
Hidden in the bay
The giant you expect
Forgive us,
Don't be born
Don't be born Sak

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Mahtab Bangalee November 13, 2018 at 9:25 PM So, don't be born on the buds of Blial!- don't be evil, devil in this living trial!//// nice poem

Jay Moore November 3, 2018 at 6:14 AM This is deep. Good job Ahmet Kurt November 6, 2018 at 3:22 PM thank you