In the battle field
A bean scar is left
Flesh Chewed by men
Ugly thrown and trampled upon

Left trickling in dry spell
Whisper of an ant, it went
Camouflaging in fading beauty
With tranquility wind.

The scar attracts
Only Mr. Nice guy.
He made the scar a home
Disgrace Hoe-dacity.

In famine the Beatle
feeds on fly
Desperate Mr. Nice
Disguised in wrong isle.
© Jmoresay






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Published by James Mose

Poetry | Script writer| Dance|

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