Mr franklin,

has a frank consciences.

He is a tall man with a broad face,

and a long chin.

A wide check bone.

Mr franklin,

If malice were meat,

Mr franklin will go for bone.

There is no other description for his stature.

Mr Franklin is slim and whole.

He wanted to break,

The Jewish code,

The great phenomenon.

If his pace were confined in veins. 

It would be no mate with venom. 

He also eyed Davincin’s code.

His inspiration pops on course.

It enlightens lightening about lightning.

Making electrostatic vacuums glow,

Causing bright lightning. 

It ended after so much heightening.

He was at war with no one else but himself.

He greased his conscience.

Ditched the laws upholding science.

Ending him,

Was absence and silence.

No one came for his funeral. 

Though his researches were more valuable,

Than the land’s mineral.

The movie thought me a lot.

This was the best I have gotten so far,

From Seven eleven cinema’s vault.

I removed my glasses, stowed it in my pocket. 

Then I sat back, analyzing Mr. Franklin’s fault.

He was at war with himself.

That was Mr Franklin’s only fault.