#MiSkriBa an jydh hedhyw o skrifa bardhonek a-dro dhe worour. Es, ye..?
#NaPoWriMo of the day was to write a poem about a superhero. Easy, yeah?
Neb Eghen a Worour Nevra nyns eus anwos warnos, po branjen dhrog, po terthen, po kleves marghek. Denhes gans an bianna brew, kepar ha letusen bennvelyn ow sewena war Facebook. Sawyor an metropolis, ha tejy ow kwiska gwen wynn, Yesu spandeks keherek ow poroga merklys bew. Ha limosin a'th lew yn tremen rag ty dhe janjya enep arta. War grows envi th'esos gans marth peub ha goos bilen. Mes pell a'n kameras tontek, diberthys a'n sens klew, arghans a as dha akont fughanow dhe be budh an glawgoos. Fatel yll drogober hwarvos, po tybyansow anlowen, ny yll bos pobel ownek, rag dhe wellhe'n bys yw? Den vyth a wel dha lowena orth sevel war gonna tas. Wosa oll a wredh gans dha boos ha nerth dha dhorn a horn, rag moy yma'n vro nownek dhe omglowes yn salow. Hag otta vy hwath ow kovyn: Prag yma fylm Marvel nowyth? | Some Kind of Superhero You never have a cold, or a sore throat, or the flu, or haemorrhroids. Humanised by the smallest wound, like a blonde-deaded lettuce trending on Facebook. The saviour of the metropolis, as you wear a perfect smile, the muscled spandex Jesus preaching living miracles. And a limousine drives you past so you can change your face again. You sit upon a cross of envy with everyone’s wonder and villain’s blood. But far from the taunting cameras, departed from your sense of touch, money leaves your fake account to pay the rainforest’s dividends. How can crime occur, or unhappy thoughts, people can’t be afraid , when it’s to save the world? Noone sees your joy when standing on a father’s neck. After all you do with your weight and the power of your iron fist, the land hungers still for more to ensure they feel safe. And still I’m here asking: Why is there another Marvel film? |
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