Country and its people
moon bridge dreams
passing, is like wandering
bunch of zombies.
nots bunch
the curtain rises
sitting in the grandstand
the world market place.
Forces decreases,
who propose a toast
lips poor man?
The splendor of life either it
faded away?
What is tomorrow's sugar,
the spice of life have you?
Here, the strong weak
oppress human mass
like ants heap
the world's treasures retrieve.
A sigh from the lips of breaking
worried the poet,
What you today
I write here?
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