three shoots
three young men, soft as shoot
beard tender like pearls of sweat
liked wide and far:
trapped.
clueless visiting village upon village
loved by all
"don't walk around openly like that"
so young ...
my country smells death
a secret killer harvesting heads
a country occupied
corruption holding hand
I beg you young heroes
don't come back for more bread!
so one day, bad news:
the harvester had cought it's catch
bullets of insidiousness
and a rifles' mouth smelling death
a decietful deathbringer
sets a new trap
every day
I told you:
the brutal murderer will get you
as bird of pray
one stealing life has no
soul
and kills
soft shoots
Poetry by ZARIFE DEMIR
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Written on 2010-02-05 at 17:35
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