But I carry no shame!
Woe’s mizzle fills the wells
Low on ammo; frail in wars
Halls of metal walls,
Brain said I’ve got no balls;
I’m but a moth to the flame.
With no others’ hands,
Fight or freeze and get lost.
And they will beg for a diet.
He left it in the basement.
Its finishing demands a cost.
No rest until the house stands.
Brave
Niyitanga Pacifique
(1)
Poem topics: house, lost, fight, brain, flame, shame, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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