To the shore

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Am leaving, leaving for the shore
To a place with greener pasture
Am gonna be there till rapture
Till every ball of dignity punctures

We took the convent alongside the oat
Feeding us with stale bread and sick oats

Everything lies between the wools
Bitter taste of human blood
Come! They tell the tales in our wood
Under the moonshine sited on a log - wood

"The trouble we bring on ourselves "
"Are the hardest to bear"

In shame and tears our griefwe bore
With thick pipes, our holes they bore

Drilling so hard we fall over the edge.
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Thanks for Reading.
#upvote#comment#resteem.

Thanks to @camzy for my cartoon.