PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

During the litany of questions, 

I will talk to you, 
about the innocence 
of flowing river. 

Here was your faultline. 
You had washed your words in 
the dirty stream. 
Now, you were complaining about the winds. 

I will not ask you 
to kill the thrill of hurting 
the defence. But 
were you ready for a recount? 

Black, as a burnt-out bread, 
the time; will leave the wounds open. 
I will write a poem 
you will start screaming.