I looked round and round
All but nothing around
Not even a page
Was found on my rage
There it is
A crooked voice said
Where?Are these hallucinations?
No-I must search
Where can i?
Or shopuld i wait and die?
How can it be?
For me to be at ease
At last i found him
In this old book-I found him
If and when we would decide to read poetry or a piece of discerning article a day, our world is, then headed for a change. No magic potion whatsoever: if there were, politicians would have used it a long time ago. Our mind is all that we have; the only exception to tricks of all corners and angles. Enjoy the luxury and peace of poetry...
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