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Mohammad Ahmad
10-22-2014, 08:03 AM
A handcuffed and my jailer stood at door
Waving his scourge slowly to the faces
A tall man has a long fashion- mustache
A curved- face while his chin is wide
He sings:
My puritan clergy has been gone
His flesh was eaten by gluttonous worms
I shall not be a frown jailer again
My face, I'll paint it with a golden flake.
**********
Something grieved me but I kept on tolerant.
Methinks the grief in the world is a heritage.
A month had been jailed, no one asked me.
But the jailer I asked at once
Saying, "why don't we be free?"
Since the entire world is a prison!
He thinks for a while and said:
How do we gain a salary if you got free?

YesNo
10-22-2014, 09:30 AM
The phrase "gluttonous worms" stood out for me. Also the explanation of the jailer needing his salary.

Mohammad Ahmad
10-22-2014, 11:59 AM
The phrase "gluttonous worms" stood out for me. Also the explanation of the jailer needing his salary.
OK, thank you for your comments
For Gluttonous, I didn't find more suitable adjective than this.
About jailer asked about his salary is an irony because he always got a salary!
However, I myself think it is not reaching the element of a good poem, this day I haven't anything to post so I post this.
Thank you YesNo