Coward’s Opus

Cowards Opus short poem

Photo by Oldmaison

His stomach is full of pure rage,
The heart is lacking
What to do,
When it all feels through?
Should he chuck it all for a different slice of dissatisfaction,
Or persevere , determining that circumstances will improve?
Sometimes the sun shines brightest the cold,
Yet this man is too afraid to go outside and embrace challenges
A coward, opus is his Literature and language,
Striking fears only in his constitution

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Cowards prose poem

Some people are capable of the most cowardly acts ever committed Of wounding a poor vulnerable homosexual’s body until he desperately cries his lungs out mortified Inflicting deep wounds of the flesh and then watching him slowly faint into unconsciousness

On Cowards And The ‘ice’

On Cowards And The ice short poem

I was happy communicating with them I was happy unknowingly indulging in their own game Happy on being appreciated Happy on being accoladed Felt each of them close to my heart Sharing things mutually though being miles apart In for