CAN YOU HELP, READER ?
When l feel my life is empty
of the joy l need to survive,
I resort to my quill and ink
and remember things that l like.

Poetry, you are my pleasure.
With you l can roam the whole world.
All the world obeys my measures
of the rhythms that fit my own style.

I think of the world, but l can't
imagine the gist of man's life.
Verse, you solve all man's hard problems,
all except the essence of life.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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