Somali Pirate
we are torn by war and degrading poverty
so we pick the fruit from the white man’s tree
his ships are our spoil, packed with black oil,
furs and gold bars for our toil
with my brothers ten men strong, we sing
the Somali pirates’ song
“Oom jigga sam sam, oom jigga may,
with my AK make you pay!
not for glory not for spite, I’ll fight your
crew with all my might
so when you holla..pirates a port!
I drop your dollar from million to nought
Ooom jigga sam sam, oom jigga may, with
my AK make you pay!
Written for contest 26/9/15
Copyright © Peter Lewis Holmes | Year Posted 2015
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