e-Paper Poetry of Vinx

Most organisms have arms
Arm to heal, feed and farm
None should pose earth harm
Or to harvest life from barn.

But disasters come with no chill
Over warm bodies willing to kill
Cyclones are arms of deadly pills
Spinning anticlockwise causing pains

Over Houston it made us so sad
Cyclone into the Rico’s will be bad
Irma on Caribbean, who plays the card?
Earth of no cyclone will make us glad.


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