My Boston massacre poem
Happened when the revolutionary war was just in sight.
Patriots stood there, skin and bone
Stood there, throwing stones.
Threatening his throat,
He called for help,
With a yelp
As anger was smelting.
When the British came out
Something was to happen, no doubt
They made sure to make their general proud.
The Americans were mad!
But technically it wasn’t as bad
Five dead, six wounded solely.
In the minds of rebels, act of terror
In the minds of the British, a minor error.