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For my love

I won't be there
when they lose themselves
to the ecstasy of the muse
and burry themselves
in the passions of politics.

I won't congregate with them
under the dark thursday night
as they fail to see the dangers
lurking on the corners
in their stupor of art

I won't join them
as they scratch the nose
of the roaring lions and leopards
with their skill of writing
in their ignorance of danger

I will be here, dear
composing sweet verses and lines
that will sound as mellodies
to fill you with happiness

I will lie on your lap
and wander into distant worlds
before coming back with beautiful
poetry
in the chambers of my heart

I won't join them dear
for my poetry
is of love (Is for you)
and they say:
they don't need it
for theirs is political.

Instead, I'll be with you
and watch my nation
being sold at a low price
while our love blossoms!

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