Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 20
He opens the grave,
Not to see the light.
What not can he save.
So simmered despite.
Simmering high flames,
The beast not in chains.
It’s the contempt, court,
Replaced tennis, brains.
Blasted are the aims!
Come time hacked discord…
For who fall the Duke,
From toilets to ****.
At what belief shook,
Did he die for it?
Nickolas J McKee
Written by
Nickolas J McKee  29/M/Wherever
(29/M/Wherever)   
125
   Rob Rutledge
Please log in to view and add comments on poems