No Rhyme, No Song
For I have not anything of any worth if what you desire is to rule the earth.
I have no blood I’m prepared to spill for your quest of evil, I shall do no kill.
I have no time of precious life to lend to your madness for gun and knife.
I have no rhyme, I have no song to write for you and for what you’ve become.
Copyright © A Yorkshire Poet | Year Posted 2023
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