Those who have oppressed, we've felt it
Now their reign, we've ended splendid.
Petunias and revolvers have a tendency to blend
Flowers over-last; rusted metals meet their end.
I've wondered into wolf packs and left with plenty pets
And treat them like I do not need them going to the vets
They speak to me as if I have never seen their weapons
I chuckle like a geisha revolutionized per seconds
I've drank the reddest rum with both saints and ugly devils
respectfully I've left them without bowing to their levels
They hate me and they fear me for the thoughts I have related
For they can never fathom such a force that GOD created.
Comments about this poem (MIDDLEMAN by Charles Monroe )
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