War

In this war torn petulant world of ours,
Did mankind create decease for fun.
That's destructional COVID for everyone,
Always thought that's what war is for.
Getting rid of the weak so to speak.

Here in sunny Eastbourne,
Find my thoughts easily torn.
Between nature and the whore,
What else would you call Putin.
Just another little dictator,
Who loves to play at war.
Wantonly raping people of their land,
Letting others do his dirty work.
They have no grit, They have no sand.
Boris Johnson spoke against him,
So did others.
Yet Putin continues with his plan.




Poetry by Alan J Ripley The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 121 times
Written on 2023-02-12 at 03:33

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