The Braggarts Comments
We are the bleeding battered brambled bushes from the gory gruelsome wars of the Irokos..
We are braaivleies from barbercues of the chefs..
We are the dried gormless gourds the tattlers tattle about..
We hold wine but never drink it, our mastdrs take them from us and leave us empty..
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When morning's mouth make love to the sun; we are those who watch with envy.. I love this! Otonye, this is a great poem, reading this I find myself in the pages of history, swaying through the images it creates. I have truly enjoyed it. Thank you.
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7/28/2025 8:41:32 AM # 1.0.0
Interesting and different. Liked what you said and how you said it. Comic, seriousness. Very nice work!