Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The bombs already drop in rhythmic succession, brewing but little condemnation - Millions bleed the colour of soil, impoverished by rich mans toil. But no tear, nor a note is shed - unless, they bleed the colour of the dollar bill.
0
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 5:21 AM UTC
A Matter of Time
The bombs already drop in rhythmic succession, brewing but little condemnation - Millions bleed the colour of soil, impoverished by rich mans toil. But no tear, nor a note is shed - unless, they bleed the colour of the dollar bill.
beau-phoenix-rose
Written by
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 5:21 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem