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Too old is the Pirates.....
what kept on scratching, when lies have already
swollen the flesh, let what it say the wound takes
it mark and the hurt makes has broken to rotten
the smooth
let the pleasure of the worm, emptied the hope
that lingers for long; the sweetest perfume
embroidered the skin, fine the beautiful muscle
of torso amongst the vessel of strength
the experienced would then tell, the oracle of
time the dense of perfume in the midst of the air
climbing the dunes of wind in the paddle of
existence
the old time comes to dismay the waiting of what
makes the callous of the past, resemble in the
beginning of a new life, as the flower blooms to
close the nightfall of the day
remember the Pirates of the sea, sail in the land
of free, waiting to pose as giant ready to shed, the
Trunk in every tree, with all the mighty strength,
To uprooted your dignity
cast yourself and be true to what you are today,
all comes in a freezing moment to stand, for a
wonderful today start for a good new day.......
poem
by
Antonio Liao
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