Friday, January 3, 2020

poem of the day January 3


I pointed the hope
of unconditional love
toward the angry crowd
who mistook it for a gun
All of a sudden
I was being chase by
the disciples of hate
Luckily I was able to find
a small tunnel in which to hide
but I need all joyful reinforcements 
IMMEDIATELY
to help me, the good soul survive

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