Wine shines to Be fine,
When the word pun hates fun.
Devils give birth to angels,
Evil gives wrath those angles.
An animal without horns mourns,
Cannibals gathered for feast at dawn.
With palm wine they sing psalms,
At the moon on a spoon at noon.
Flowers die at sunrise,
Towers will fall at springtime.
The cat makes an ocean its habitat,
Plunging the mice to feast on yeast.
A Son rides on the back of a bison,
The song sides with the lost of a son.
But the sun still shines on the son,
Even though he's gone to the ground.
Son Morns
Besong Orock
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 05/13/2019
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Poem topics: animal, birth, cat, evil, fun, lost, moon, ocean, song, sun, dawn, son, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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