Thursday, 13 November 2014

A Blabbering Poet

I resigned; I want to take a break
Freedom from stress, what will it take?
Don’t push your luck on me
I can destroy you that easy

Blinded by the callous on his hands
Blood, sweat, life; given but not their lands

So rich, so powerful, what can we do?
The weak are under your feet, why is that so?
Shall I bow and be amongst your slave?
I’d rather cut my tongue than be downed with shame

The weary and the defeated, should they hide?
The deft, the dead, all thrown, can they glide?

I am blabbering nonsense, can you tell?
My life is being sang by the toiling bell
Now everything is fast leaving
I can offer nothing but a broken feeling


∗This is my original composition
© Copyright 2014

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