Rolling The Eyes

Stephen struggled not to roll his eyes,
Built on the ground, his legs sprouted.
Being friendly his fire came from the heart,
Guns were from his soldiery a lesson
To the brave and the oxen who invaded.
His eyes gained sight every now and then,
After the shocks the eyes repainted the scene.
The shocks gravely impaired Stephen,
On the sloping ground, on the carved land.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!