~ The Poet's Place Cafe~

YOUTHS' RIOT

Fuming, offended, armed with weapons;
Hatred and malice turned to lions.
Veiled is the future, just like past ones.

Fighting, unyielding, were the strong blooms.
Gloomy, not willing, souls leave their rooms;
Hating and fearful, foes meet their dooms.

Riding strong shoulders came the fighter;
That face that frowned looks still and brighter.
Aye, he returned, but cold and quieter.


N.B.: Not to support riots, but to share feelings.