The lucid pond
Clear reflection of yourself
Leaf falls and creates a ripple

The tranquil river flows
I set sail my handmade paper boat
Winds drift it off course

There once was a town in the world.
In this little town, lived a girl.
She barely could write,
But sat up all night.
Carefully carving each word.

The poem she wrote was a dream.
A thought that had grown, it'd seem.
The frailest of strands;
Words woven by hands.
Like droplets of diamond
Downstream.

The morning sun shone on the stairs.
He sat there, his face holding tears.
Her father, and all
That little girl called
Her family, burdened with fears.

She sat down beside the poor man.
Put paper inside his strong hand.
She left him to read,
As if sowing a seed.
And so, the whole healing began.

Her words had a life of their own.
Of wisdom beyond any known.
They spoke of a place
That was floating in space,
Yet it's beings were far from alone.

Why cry when there's laughter?  
Why fight when there's dance?
Why hate when there's family,
Fun and romance?

Her words were so simple, so clean.
Yet painted in colours unseen  
Through verses and lines,
And symbols and signs...
To adults, elders, infants and teens.

It took not religion, it seems.
No army, no guns or machines.
To shape this old world
To the words of a girl
With paper, a pen... and a dream.

To the ground, to the ground, the country must fall,
If it is to rise again, free from leeches, mosquitoes, et. al.

Murderers walk free
Gangsters parade their ware
A country controlled by thieves petty
Citizens governed lack of care

A dozen missions have now been declared
To the moon, to space, there and back
Petty thieves calling themselves politicians
Will be forever doomed, karma bites back

Poet laureates hauled to prison
Patriotism is questioned
If petty thieves continue ruling
Why wouldn’t learned souls rise to action?

Hope is nowhere in sight
Dissension and strife are forthcoming
Divide and conquer, it worked really well
First the British and now the national front

To the ground, to the ground, the country must fall,
If it is to rise again, free from leeches, mosquitoes, et. al.