They killed a dozen boys in brazen daylight
Their sin: soccer watching, goofin’ round & flying a kite
Can you smell the charred remains of the teenage boys?
Can you imagine your own young’ens being burnt for playing with toys?
Or is our world just too pompously far away?
Does that name ring a bell?
She’s the Muslim Republican casting a spell
On fellow Muslims to vote for Trump, that soulless shell
Arguing Democrats’ policies of same sex marriage will send us all to hell…
Know this, my dear sister: Once you become trapped inside his oppression well
No one will hear your cries for help, no matter how hard God will help you yell.
All you have provided refugees till now are
Unjust looks, acrid smirks and their shroud.
Rancid scum will reek from your conscience
Until history spits you in its pits of the immoral haemorrhoid crowd.
author disclaimer: I’m no journo, so you can’t slap me with $8,000 for your foul, puss-scented visa, if I ever apply for one. I’m just a human thinking about your atrocities out loud.
All rude thoughts begin to swim
The strongest lover signs a prenup
All due to a Google search and a whim
He sold everything except his dogged shoes, a crumbled pack of cigarettes (which also held a small lighter the shape of a Pepsi bottle) and a backpack, which he didn’t pack, as he had nothing. So he just protected his smokes inside his old brown leather jacket, which he’d stolen from a neighbour’s house after their apartment block flitted during a new military game called ‘Strafe’ version 16.
Finally, he’d fled Monsieur Tyranny to Europe. But the rancid smell of oppression bruised his nose harder than a coke overdose as soon as he got there.
Have you ever wondered, if you are as useful as a potato on this planet?