Clean the pigeon to fly
in the middle of the clouds of hatred
flames is sad
to be human.
Kneel in front of life
It is heavier dates
they sink to the shoulders bowed.
I despise them
that rat race
press the red knuckles.
I long ago it
I had to stress out
unloose.
Too soon the love of hate
shadow cloak gets.
Who knows how to love the other,
if he SEVEN
days a week for the money
after running mad
luster in his eyes.
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