First read at radio universe, university of Ghana.
The chords struck in staccato
So it came, staggering
On his soul to wretchedness
Hmm.... So he was told
Many other souls
Played disorganized on the piano
Yet Gos shares the gold
Hmm.... So he was told
His life was a guitar
And he smoked it: i saw the tar
Even in this piece, his only peace
Could not have been his own
Hmm.... So he was told
So all our world dwell like a phrase
Held by naked sung and unsung chords in display
And a wrong note is a discord played
So a la-la-la gifts a ray
Hmm.... So he was told
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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