To be approached like an early coven,
Caught in this Propoganda from the same side,
Words which are woven,
Yet not to be heard by this deathly pride,
Afraid of your own kind,
Ireland to shame, Syria to rot,
Desperado to blow your own mind,
And massacre these children you have sought.
Leaders of great power, yet hearts so weak,
Boris do us proud, climb that slippery political hill,
You fight the same kind this war which will peak,
Explain to the child of the mother you kill.
You fight with no real reason,
You fight with no real purpose,
You map my fate like the change of a season,
Do not touch my lips with your posinous kiss.
PROPOGANDA WILL YOU DIE OR GROW STRONGER AND DESTROY.
©nicola24
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