I'm going to the line,
Tonight.
That's right;
I won't return to my plough again.
The hands that nourished life,
Will take them now.
It is this strife,
That'll spell the end of me.
Surely, the politicians are sitting in peace,
Discussing meetings as we go;
As we dive to die.
It's a truth,
Even a blind can't deny.
My hands once soiled,
Will now be bathed in blood.
My demons once exiled,
Will now return to brood.
Shh! Be quiet now.
Let my children sleep,
And tell them, 'Daddy loves you!'
YOU ARE READING
Pen It Down
PoetryI'll be entertaining y'all while playing with words. Rest assured you won't leave without an impression. Sit back and enjoy!
