Babylon Rott

Babylon Rott short poem

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To hear the pattering of tiny feet ,
then the sound of gunfire in the street,
Is a sign that people have lost there way,
They cant make head nor tail of the light of day,
When will all this blood shed stop ,
Can’t we silence the bombs and the guns going pop.
There’s crack on the street and childhoods lost,
In prostitute dens at businessmen’s cost,
I live in the hills now, far far away
and I’m sitting it out till you all go away!

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Word Roach

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I grew up on a council estate bordering the green fields of kent , so it was fishing in streams and glue sniffing skinheads, what a contrast. I,ve taken drugs and had mixed times both very bad and good and have done a huge variety of different jobs which all in all I think make my work interesting. I dont drink or take drugs anymore. Havent for 8 years. Its better but I regret nothing, it all adds to you person.Thanks for reading my work. Its very enjoyable to do and a bit secret !
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Babylon

Babylon ode

Between-Euphrates and Tigris, I was located, Ancient gods found home in me, Beliefs I professed were numerous, Yoke-I placed-upon captives, Life buried in religious activities-I encouraged, On top of hanging garden my beauty laid, Nations far and near feared me

Babylon

Babylon short poem

She wrote a lie about her mother Just because she found a nub of pencil Greasy lead Teethmarks infesting the barrel It set her fist like a phonograph needle Remembering the wobble and crack Of those old spiritual records Truer