A Slave's Revenge

You took all my children from me
and you whipped me.
Your eyes filled with excitement, as I suffered.
You shot my son and your wife's true lover.

You want me to make you a meal?
I will make you a meal, that you shall never forget.
A meal that isn't
too sweat nor too sour,
not too bitter nor too spicy,
smells like the fresh roses,
and taste like honey dew.

Enjoy your meal, sir.
I will a sure you, that this meal
shall be like your last.

This poem is about: 
My country

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