What shall I tell thee?
Hast thou not heard enough?
In the wake of the night it comes knocking
He comes in when you're sleeping
With a wine of shame and contempt
To wage war, it never relents
Poverty is not a disease
It is more; in a blink, you're deceased
The Cup
Emmanuel Shadrach
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 05/03/2024
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Poem topics: never, night, poverty, war, blink, shame, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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