Poetry is what surrounds you, the air you breath, the the golden sunset you see, the chirping birds you hear, yet the wind that blows off your clothes such that we see your naked mind.
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simonpoetically: MY POLITICAL MIND : "My political mind Has turned me to one Who doesn't mind One with a dead conscience One suffer...
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simonpoetically: WHENEVER I MEET HER : Whenever I meet her on the street When her dove eyes meet mine As they crush the softest part of ...
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If I said behind your eyes There’s no brain That all you think of is political gain At the expense of wananchi’s pain If it’s worth it ...
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