YOU USED TO LOVE RED.

YOU USED TO LOVE RED.
Will you have the joy of your heart
after such a crime that was bright?
 Will you satisfy your mean greed,
feasting on what that crime endowed?

Soul and mind have changed their main job,
painting those men whom you could rob.
Red is taken from their shed blood,
sticking on your bloody red mind.

Your perfect crime that escaped spies
could appear in your red, glum eyes.
Even, kinds of red you adore,
have got what you so much abhor.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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