Poem: Not Made That Strong

 

The soilder up a sword did raise
To strike; to hurt; to kill
A vulnerable easy lad tied to the stake.

The hitman a bullet did shoot
To waste; to finish off; to kill
A vulnerable easy lad tied to the stake

The archer a bow did string
To hit; to pierce; to kill
A vulnerable easy lad tied to the stake

Of all, a bullet, the fastest is
Light and sound, betrayed by speed
All triggered by action.

But all could by a shield be halted
A bulletproof vest, too.

Unfortunately ,
I wasn’t made that strong.
I hurt when you pierce my skin.
I bleed when you kill my dreams.
I cry when you waste my plans.
I wither when you finish off my happiness
I fall when you betray my trust.
I shiver when you strike my beloved.

I hurt, oh I hurt!
Like Galileo Galilee at his sentence
Like Romeo at the sepulchre of his Juliette
Like Hamlet at the fate of Gertrude
Like me, like me at the mercy of your will…

 

Kindly contact www.tgyinminu.com for all full copy (text, audio and video) of this poem.

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