Flying under this or that radar
Cowardly obedient
Treasuring the little piece of sky
There’s another way
To say the wounding truth
But they all trying to fly
And not to be sued
Not to be touched
And that is where it lies
Flying too under radar
Words will cease to come
Arms will lay on sides
As it comes to a sight
Mothering greed, smothering crowds
All under radar.
Screams so… Beastly and insulting
Aims of “WE” are aims of society
We see the flowers, flowers
Thorns on the side of graveyard
Flowers of life are in hands
Of blind ones.
And everyone seems to be content.
Till it comes to that day.
Till it comes to the end.
Under radar
© Copyright: Амон Дин, 2018
Свидетельство о публикации №118072601816
Свидетельство о публикации №118072601816
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