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When small
He was cute and  loving
I often longed  to cuddle him
Forgetting the world.

Yet when grown up
His cuteness and  ignorance
Gone from him.
Besides,  he became hard hearted.

I love the days past
When on Sundays and holidays
I rambled out to the countryside
On my bicycle
My wife waiting for me
Having the meal ready.

In the morning I swept
the surrounding
Off the dirt and fallen leaves
with a broom;
She tending the vegetable garden.

How beautiful and serene
Spring was in the long past
When I was a young man .
Just a small piece enjoy
And whether a child is born
in the urban sprawl of Detroit

Or the windswept plains of Nebraska
They look up at the same night sky

They fill their heart with the same dreams
And they are infused with the breath of life
By the same almighty creator!

--A poem by President Donald Trump


Extremely beautiful, President Trump
thank you for this

In the beginning
The end was so far away
In the end
It was just around the corner
We all paint our lives.
The mountains of challenges,
The rivers of tears,
The waterfalls of joy.

We mix the colours of sorrow and laughter
And add the colours of experience and the years that passed.
The souls we will always remember
And the moments we will never forget.
Late this moonlit  night
I am sitting at the sill
of the window opened
dreaming of the past.
Oh, unknown flutist,
of the day long gone
now play your flute
to the charming tune
once I heard
in such a night.
A play was enacted
with a drum beating prologue.
Evaded in thin air
after some acts.
Enacting and evading
time and again.
Never it completed.
During sleepless nights
Sometimes I was afraid of sleep
Because to some extent
It was like death.
But unbearable the pang
I murmured sleep !,sleep !
I did not know
When I slept.
When woke up in the morning
I felt the satisfaction
Of the sleep I had.
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