Read Time:22 Second
See, he lies in wait:
To strike for victory,
To make little children cry
And old men grumble like pigs.
He torments
Without mercy
And makes the talkative
Mute.
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;
Food!
meet the poet: Uchechukwu Ekwurekwu Obiakor
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