See, he lies in wait:
To strike for victory,
To make little children cry
And old men grumble like pigs.
And makes the talkative
Anger makes up his entourage
Smiling faces change
And bellies rumble like thunder;
Bodies never remain same
But his weapon of belle destruction
Can’t stand the intercontinental missile;
meet the poet: Uchechukwu Ekwurekwu Obiakor
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.