I never made a way out of hell
neither did I come from sub-sections of hatred
the blossoms are too rigid
the night cries blood, what if I am just a stranger?
life after death has found it's definition
way before Earth, and war for Humanity
all of a certain are subject of perfection
I am ill treated baldly
I never made choices
I am too young for hatred......
I Never Wanted To Die.
Doc Akot Makur Maluac
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 03/09/2020
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Poem topics: death, life, night, war, earth, young, perfection, stranger, humanity, definition, never, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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