Oh lord, oh dear
what have I done?
I've shot a man
with my own gun.
I waited patiently
with all my might
for some clue to his
position in the night
He shot me first
clear as a bell
but that's not all
of my story to tell
For then, oh dear,
I faked an act
and made it look
like my death was fact
And then I shot him
when he was unaware
and I wondered who it was
who'd fought me so fair
I turned over his corpse
What, then, did I see?
my dear, little brother
staring back at me.
Wow, I sure hope this is fiction India. Quite a poem.....Sincerely, Mary
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank you, India! as Alanis would sing.