Homeless

HOMELESS 

Devilish homeless virus!
To what do we owe this visit?
You play with lungs like toys, 
Taking dreams to early graves;
And in our tears you find your joy, 
Who the hell is your creator?

Visa free from nation to nation; 
Traveling like a prostitute infection,
Even home is not safe with family;
Please take your leave so quickly.

A cry for the Doctors in battle;
At the war front without assurance;
And for your venom possessed victims,
Courage to the courage they carry...
A cry out to my own humble Creator;
Lion with eye-on from Zion and Judah...
The same One my Muslims call Allah;
Come down from heaven with power.
                                 Copyright: VKINGS 
                                                 V160320
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

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Krutsinger Avatar
April 4, 2020 at 12:38 PM
Well done. So compelling too.
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