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Jan 2019
First of the part of the journey
The sea washes
The sand castle
In a hassle of moist touches
Shaping my future like God's touches
I feel blessed
As the empty red sunset sky watches
Looks like the faces of the dirt and the dust
Lay the waste to the degrees of the deserted fields
Cause the spring time rains on the
Heads on the bickering rabble of the lost civilizations
Where has out water gone?
Where is our respect?
Smirking MAGA kid convicted of arrogance
Pretend to be docile to bring out the silence
In your enemy
Provoke disgrace by being free
Out of the trees
Of last vicars
That make the yellow tainted spruce
Meant for the civilized truth
Darkness cannot drive out darkness
Only love can do that
Willing is not enough. We must apply. We must do.
Splashes of Surreal
Written by
Splashes of Surreal  25/M/New Delhi, India
(25/M/New Delhi, India)   
181
     Sara Brummer and Tony Anderson
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