Blood on the sand.It's dark and red.
Guilty police is already corrupted.
Selfishness comes, joy's overfed.
Fear makes community puppet.
Generous thugs making all good.
Money is their only fracture.
None of the people shows sad mood.
Government calling it structure.
Mad but alive scream for salvation.
The poor and forlorn may cry.
Wolves with sharp teeth starting aggression.
You have one choice - to die.
Nothing makes sense, things overrated.
Punished for your minor fault.
But any lie boldly stated.
Tear's on their cheeks are all salt.
Power of word
© Copyright: Тимур Бичаров, 2016
Свидетельство о публикации №116081607077
Свидетельство о публикации №116081607077
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