A glimpse of the firing gun firing itself;
A cut flesh in a body on a broken self.
Blood on the carpet have been speaking,
Memories that never happened you had.
You had been steamed and thrown away;
You would not win the hearts of the world!
Coz you Osama, you the name of terror!
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Comments about this poem (Oh! Osama by shivayadav yadav )
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- falling down a well, well, you pushed me, Mandolyn ...
- Indeed, george albot
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