Under Attack Poem by Ima Ryma

Under Attack



They came - invaders in my walls,
Picking their spots from which to fight.
My forces were on constant calls
To minimize their awesome might.
Uneasy peace many a year,
They would attack just now and then.
My mercenaries would appear
And send them back to wait again.
But they were patient ever so.
I weakened as the time went by.
Slowly my defenses did go,
'Twas just the way, no matter why.

Bacteria throughout me spread.
They won, I lost - cuz I am dead.

Saturday, January 16, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: fashion
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