Poem : The Bull

The Bull

The bull has grown its horn,

Ready to thrust anybody who bear the color of red.

The bull has grew its horn,

Ready to curse anybody that comes to its way.

The bull has grown its horn.

The bull has become sensitive;

It has become wilder, craftier;

The bull will go in rage easily.

The bull, that beast, is injured.

Its soul is broken, shattered into pieces.

The bull is broken, lost in the nowhere.

The bull is now nothing but a broken toy,

Just attacking whoever and whatever comes,

Whoever and whatever that dares to get near it.

The bull has grown its horn;

The bull is broken.

~swt”~