doth thou rest when thy soul and its spirit are
dressed in attire where thy shirt is drenched
of angry vile and trouser pockets are filled
with mire, sewn by threads of a coward
thine ears must hear the wailing and the cries
from children’s lacrimal filled eyes due to
empty bellies and broken hearts from
mother’s arms having been torn apart
is there no shame in thy heart for all the pain
caused and for the gravity of your actions,
for the tasteless discourse that projects
from thy tongue of divisive hate
