• gaddaffi_t 6w

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    Poemet-031
    10/09/2019


    When the clock bites the dust,
    And ruling kings meet at dusk,
    Cry will be last words of men,
    When ther' our deeds be open.

    When the block crumbles down,
    And our sins face the crown,
    Cry will be last words we speak,
    And ther' sheer pain will so peak.

    When the knock finally sounds,
    And souls divorce the grounds,
    Cry will be the loudest end of us,
    When our women we 'ere abuse.
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