blackmail

Learn more about other poetry terms

Spy of high, its a poor's Cry Spare the Honest ,do not Pry   Don't You know it hurts so bad when my blue bird just can't fly   talk to the nobles, say my sigh i am so naïve, don't know to get by
My words are deafened by the sound of an unspoken tongue;A language more ancient than mankind itself.She uttered phrases that Shepard's used to heed their sheep
Words never meant to be heard by my earsBut if they concern me, how are they not?If my best friend's voice is heardWhispering mine behind a curtainDoes not my moral compass remain unscathed?
Subscribe to blackmail