The Triumph Of Misery Poem by Tony Adah

We took up arms against measles
And he ran away
He fell and tumbled over
Thinking we were still after him
He will not know the gun is in our blood
Frail and weak of pellets from our gun
He manages to look our way with fright
Now he's gone
But any day he surfaces again
He'll die

Another enemy knocking on our door is misery
He comes with pangs of pain
And we pant like a dog from a race
We hide our guns and laugh
At his ravage of man
But we find our guns back and shoot
To kill ourselves in celebration
Of the triumph of misery
And the defeat of man by man.