Another poem. Please read, review, and enjoy!
I'm not a piece of land; I won't be claimed by anyone.
I am what I am,
whatever that is...
...Then will we banter on and on
While towers push up from the sea,
And we with particolored skin
Decide to let the foolish be?
Or shall we stand, enraged at once,
And call upon our distant halfs
To strangle sense into fool throats
Then beat fools senseless with our staffs?
Will we, militant, raise our cry,
And, aiming right, let spearheads fly?
Or shrink away from conflict, bare,
And let all protest in us die?
Perhaps the path that lays between;
With equal parts of sense and fight,
Can serve to heal the dumber lot
And set our social qualms a'right.
Wow, I sound so mad in this. I mean, the speaker sounds mad in this. Praise? Criticism? Let me know; review or PM me!