Peace Poem by Dorothea Gift Of God
Peace
They have begun to press upon me.
They've touched my pen wound.
They chosen not to admit me even through I showed them that I was in need of pain.
My face and head ran the show the enemy stood beside me as an effected lover would do.
Yet the agreement is off.
They tried to find my spine and release fluids off of me.
He pressed into my eye to reveal an image into me.
I cried to be set free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/17/2024 11:01:10 PM # 1.0.0.1119
