War
Bearded men laugh
While beardless women cry
Children fight each other
Sisters, brothers die
Why the sorrow?
Why the pain?
Only to God we all complain
No master to this land
So why do you stretch your greedy hands?
One in a million
The temptress... She is always dressed in red, Pale skin, juicy leaps, fine breasts That kind that they call le famme fatale, Woman worth to die for, I'd say many have fallen Few remain And her venom is like of a black widow spider Deadly and numbing, such is her love _____________________________________________________ Help me earn a living helping you earn a living as a poet/poetess buy a subscription or join the FREE discord: https://whop.com/prockstem/
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I thank you sincerely for a polite and honest opinion of yours.