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I used the best technique that I knew to protect my files.

quote by Wen Ho Lee
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Files

Files
The Files -
Office Files !
Oblige me by referring to the Files.
Every question man can raise,
Every phrase of every phrase
Of that question is on record in the Files -
(Threshed out threadbare - fought and finished in the Files
Ere the Universe at large
Was our new-tipped arrows' targe -
Ere we rediscovered Mammon and his wiles
Faeza gentle reader, spent her-five-and-twentieth leader
(You will find him, and some others, in the Files).
Warn all coming Robert Brownings and Carlyles,
It will interest them to hunt among the Files
Where unvisited, a-cold,
Lie the crowded years of old
In that Kensal-Green of greatness called the Files
(In our newspaPère-la-Chaise the Office Files),
Where the dead men lay them down
Meekly sure of long renown,
And above them, sere and swift,
Packs the daily deepening drift
Of the all-recording, all-effacing Files
The obliterating, automatic Files.
Count the mighty men who slung
Ink, Evangel, Sword, or Tongue
When Reform and you were young
Made their boasts and spake according in the Files
(Hear the ghosts that wake applauding in the Files!)
Trace each all-forgot career
From long primer through brevier
Unto Death, a para minion in the Files
(Para minion-solid-bottom of the Files). . . .
Some successful Kings and Queens adorn the Files.
They were great, their views were leaded,
And their deaths were triple-headed,
So they catch the eye in running through the Files
(Show as blazes in the mazes of the Files);
For their 'paramours and priests,'
And their gross, jack-booted feasts,
And their 'epoch-marking actions' see the Files.
Was it Bomba fled the blue Sicilian isles?
Was it Saffi, a professor
Once of Oxford, brought redress or
Garibaldi? Who remembers
Forty-odd-year-old Septembers? -
Only sextons paid to dig among the Files (Such as I am, born and bred among the Files).
You must hack through much deposit
Ere you know for sure who was it

[...] Read more

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Protect My Heart

Here we go
Puerto Rico
I gotta protect my heart
I gotta protect my heart
You were the highlight of the spot
but you wouldn't tell me your name
You were like, Girl are you ready or not?
to dance the entire night away
You were like, Let me hold ya girl
You were sayin, Let me touch ya girl
You were sayin, Let me squeeze ya girl
You turned me on. Let me f*** ya girl
See, when I first got here, I knew love barely
I gotta protect my heart
Then ya come changin things, I knew that's unfair, babe
I gotta protect my heart
The room was oh so hot
If you won't move, then move out of the way
I'm giving it all I got
but at the same time trying to maintain
You were like, Let me hold ya girl
You were sayin, Let me touch ya girl
You were sayin, Let me squeeze ya girl
You turned me on. Let me f*** ya girl
See, when I first got here, I knew love barely
I gotta protect my heart
Then ya come changin things, I knew that's unfair, babe
I gotta protect my heart
Never been touched by the way someone moves
and that scares me
I gotta protect my heart
If Cupid knew you were comin, he shoulda prepared me
I gotta protect my heart
I I I I just I just, I just need to
Walk away from the door
But I could feel myself reversing
I never gave in before
See I guess that's what happened when
You were like, Let me hold ya girl
You were sayin, Let me touch ya girl
You were sayin, Let me squeeze ya girl
You turned me on. Let me f*** ya girl
See, when I first got here, I knew love barely
I gotta protect my heart
Then ya come changin things, I knew that's unfair, babe
I gotta protect my heart
Never been touched by the way someone moves
and that scares me
I gotta protect my heart
If Cupid knew you were comin, he shoulda prepared me

[...] Read more

song performed by Kelis
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Have A Woman Inside My Soul

I have a woman inside my soul,
Her eyes sombre and sad.
She waves her hand to try to reach me,
But I cant hear what she says.
I wish I knew what she says,
I wish I knew what she wants,
I wish I knew what she says to me,
I wish I knew what she means to me.
I see an asphalt road inside my soul,
Its pale even in a warm summers day.
It stretches into the mist and calls me,
But I dont know what it takes.
I wish I knew what it takes, (I wish I knew)
I wish I knew what it gives, (I wish I knew)
I wish I knew what it says to me, (I wish I knew)
I wish I knew what it means to me. (I wish I knew)
I see a tombstone inside my soul,
Its old and mossy, covered in dead leaves.
It stands with an engraving on it surface,
But I dont know what it reads.
I wish I knew what it reads, (I wish I knew)
I wish I knew what it says, (I wish I knew)
I wish I knew what it says to me, (I wish I knew)
I wish I knew what it means to me. (I wish I knew)
(yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, hey)
I feel snow covering inside my soul,
Its hard and shining in shades of grey.
No footsteps ever made their marks,
And I dont know when it melts.
I wish I knew when it melts, (I wish I knew)
I wish I knew when it happens, (I wish I knew)
I wish I knew if it happens at all, (I wish I knew)
I wish I knew what it means to me. (I wish I knew)
I hear a stream running inside my soul,
Its cold and clear and carries a tune.
But I dont know what it sings and tells,
I dont know where it goes.
I wish I knew what it sings,
I wish I knew where it goes,
I wish I knew what it sings, (I wish I knew)
I wish I knew where it goes, (I wish I knew)
I wish I knew what it sings. (I wish I knew)
(I wish I knew)
(I wish I knew) (yeah!)
(I wish I knew)
(I wish I knew)

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Danny Deever

"What are the bugles blowin' for?" said Files-on-Parade.
"To turn you out, to turn you out", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"What makes you look so white, so white?" said Files-on-Parade.
"I'm dreadin' what I've got to watch", the Colour-Sergeant said.
For they're hangin' Danny Deever, you can hear the Dead March play,
The regiment's in 'ollow square -- they're hangin' him to-day;
They've taken of his buttons off an' cut his stripes away,
An' they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.

"What makes the rear-rank breathe so 'ard?" said Files-on-Parade.
"It's bitter cold, it's bitter cold", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"What makes that front-rank man fall down?" said Files-on-Parade.
"A touch o' sun, a touch o' sun", the Colour-Sergeant said.
They are hangin' Danny Deever, they are marchin' of 'im round,
They 'ave 'alted Danny Deever by 'is coffin on the ground;
An' 'e'll swing in 'arf a minute for a sneakin' shootin' hound --
O they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'!

"'Is cot was right-'and cot to mine", said Files-on-Parade.
"'E's sleepin' out an' far to-night", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"I've drunk 'is beer a score o' times", said Files-on-Parade.
"'E's drinkin' bitter beer alone", the Colour-Sergeant said.
They are hangin' Danny Deever, you must mark 'im to 'is place,
For 'e shot a comrade sleepin' -- you must look 'im in the face;
Nine 'undred of 'is county an' the regiment's disgrace,
While they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.

"What's that so black agin' the sun?" said Files-on-Parade.
"It's Danny fightin' 'ard for life", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"What's that that whimpers over'ead?" said Files-on-Parade.
"It's Danny's soul that's passin' now", the Colour-Sergeant said.
For they're done with Danny Deever, you can 'ear the quickstep play,
The regiment's in column, an' they're marchin' us away;
Ho! the young recruits are shakin', an' they'll want their beer to-day,
After hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Protect Me From What I Want

Its that desease of the age
Its that desease that we crave
Alone at the end of the race
We catch the last bus home
Corporate america wakes
Coffee republic in case
We open the latch on the gate
Of the hole that we call our home
Protect me from what I want...
Protect me protect me
Maybe were victims of fate
Remember when wed celebrate
Wed drink and get high until late
And now were all alone
Wedding bells aint gonna chime
With both of us guilty of crime
And both of us sentenced to time
And now were all alone
Protect me from what I want...
Protect me protect me
Protect me from what I want...
Protect me protect me
Protect me from what I want...
Protect me protect me
Protect me from what I want...
Protect me protect me

song performed by Placebo
Added by Lucian Velea
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Song of the Dardanelles

The Wireless tells and the cable tells
How our boys behaved by the Dardanelles.
Some thought in their hearts “Will our boys make good?”
We knew them of old and we knew they would!
Knew they would—
Knew they would;
We were mates of old and we knew they would.
They laughed and they larked and they loved likewise,
For blood is warm under Southern skies;
They knew not Pharoah (’tis understood),
And they got into scrapes, as we knew they would.
Knew they would—
Knew they would;
And they got into scrapes, as we knew they would.

They chafed in the dust of an old dead land
At the long months’ drill in the scorching sand;
But they knew in their hearts it was for their good,
And they saw it through as we knew they would.
Knew they would—
Knew they would;
And they saw it through as we knew they would.

The Coo-ee called through the Mena Camp,
And an army roared like the Ocean’s tramp
On a gale-swept beach in her wildest mood,
Till the Pyramids shook as we knew they would.
Knew they would—
Knew they would.
(And the Sphinx woke up as we knew she would.)

They were shipped like sheep when the dawn was grey;
(But their officers knew that no lambs were they).
They squatted and perched where’er they could,
And they “blanky-ed” for joy as we knew they would.
Knew they would—
Knew they would;
They “blanky-ed” for joy as we knew they would.

The sea was hell and the shore was hell,
With mine, entanglement, shrapnel and shell,
But they stormed the heights as Australians should,
And they fought and they died as we knew they would.
Knew they would—
Knew they would;
They fought and they died as we knew they would.

From the southern hills and the city lanes,
From the sandwaste lone and the Blacksoil Plains;
The youngest and strongest of England’s brood!—

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Lawson
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Soccer Under 20

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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Avon's Harvest

Fear, like a living fire that only death
Might one day cool, had now in Avon’s eyes
Been witness for so long of an invasion
That made of a gay friend whom we had known
Almost a memory, wore no other name
As yet for us than fear. Another man
Than Avon might have given to us at least
A futile opportunity for words
We might regret. But Avon, since it happened,
Fed with his unrevealing reticence
The fire of death we saw that horribly
Consumed him while he crumbled and said nothing.

So many a time had I been on the edge,
And off again, of a foremeasured fall
Into the darkness and discomfiture
Of his oblique rebuff, that finally
My silence honored his, holding itself
Away from a gratuitous intrusion
That likely would have widened a new distance
Already wide enough, if not so new.
But there are seeming parallels in space
That may converge in time; and so it was
I walked with Avon, fought and pondered with him,
While he made out a case for So-and-so,
Or slaughtered What’s-his-name in his old way,
With a new difference. Nothing in Avon lately
Was, or was ever again to be for us,
Like him that we remembered; and all the while
We saw that fire at work within his eyes
And had no glimpse of what was burning there.

So for a year it went; and so it went
For half another year—when, all at once,
At someone’s tinkling afternoon at home
I saw that in the eyes of Avon’s wife
The fire that I had met the day before
In his had found another living fuel.
To look at her and then to think of him,
And thereupon to contemplate the fall
Of a dim curtain over the dark end
Of a dark play, required of me no more
Clairvoyance than a man who cannot swim
Will exercise in seeing that his friend
Off shore will drown except he save himself.
To her I could say nothing, and to him
No more than tallied with a long belief
That I should only have it back again
For my chagrin to ruminate upon,
Ingloriously, for the still time it starved;

[...] Read more

poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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The Columbiad: Book VI

The Argument

British cruelty to American prisoners. Prison Ship. Retreat of Washington with the relics of his army, pursued by Howe. Washington recrossing the Delaware in the night, to surprise the British van, is opposed by uncommon obstacles. His success in this audacious enterprise lays the foundation of the American empire. A monument to be ere on the bank of the Delaware. Approach of Burgoyne, sailing up the St. Laurence with an army of Britons and various other nations. Indignant energy of the colonies, compared to that of Greece in opposing the invasion of Xerxes. Formation of an army of citizens, under the command of Gates. Review of the American and British armies, and of the savage tribes who join the British standard. Battle of Saratoga. Story of Lucinda. Second battle, and capture of Burgoyne and his army.

But of all tales that war's black annals hold,
The darkest, foulest still remains untold;
New modes of torture wait the shameful strife,
And Britain wantons in the waste of life.

Cold-blooded Cruelty, first fiend of hell,
Ah think no more with savage hordes to dwell;
Quit the Caribian tribes who eat their slain,
Fly that grim gang, the Inquisitors of Spain,
Boast not thy deeds in Moloch's shrines of old,
Leave Barbary's pirates to their blood-bought gold,
Let Holland steal her victims, force them o'er
To toils and death on Java's morbid shore;
Some cloak, some color all these crimes may plead;
Tis avarice, passion, blind religion's deed;
But Britons here, in this fraternal broil,
Grave, cool, deliberate in thy service toil.
Far from the nation's eye, whose nobler soul
Their wars would humanize, their pride control,
They lose the lessons that her laws impart,
And change the British for the brutal heart.
Fired by no passion, madden'd by no zeal,
No priest, no Plutus bids them not to feel;
Unpaid, gratuitous, on torture bent,
Their sport is death, their pastime to torment;
All other gods they scorn, but bow the knee,
And curb, well pleased, O Cruelty, to thee.

Come then, curst goddess, where thy votaries reign,
Inhale their incense from the land and main;
Come to Newyork, their conquering arms to greet,
Brood o'er their camp and breathe along their fleet;
The brother chiefs of Howe's illustrious name
Demand thy labors to complete their fame.
What shrieks of agony thy praises sound!
What grateless dungeons groan beneath the ground!
See the black Prison Ship's expanding womb
Impested thousands, quick and dead, entomb.
Barks after barks the captured seamen bear,
Transboard and lodge thy silent victims there;
A hundred scows, from all the neighboring shore,
Spread the dull sail and ply the constant oar,
Waft wrecks of armies from the well fought field,
And famisht garrisons who bravely yield;

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
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I Believe(From The 60's)

Even though I'm so young.
I still feel so ancient.
Like I was meant to be born in 60's
I believe in honest hard work.
I believe in chivalry.
I believe in taking ten paces before before you kill someone.

Yes I use modern technology.
But so does grama.
Some things will not change no matter the gadgets.
How the game is played is still the same.
Only the technique has changed.

Even though I'm so young.
I still feel so ancient.
Like I was meant to be born in 60's
I believe in the right protest.
I believe less government is progress.
I believe we must protect all our freedoms.

No matter if theirs a gun in my face or not.
You will not silence my speech.
You will not rob me or my family.
No matter who you are.
I never encourage violence accept to defend oneself.
No matter the impeding army.
Or the repercussions of such actions.
It has never been about self sanctification with me.
Protect those you love.
Let only god be the one to judge.

Even though I'm so young.
I still feel so ancient.
Like I was meant to be born in 60's
I believe in honest hard work.
I believe in chivalry.
I believe in taking ten paces before before you kill someone.

Yes I use modern technology.
But so does grama.
Some things will not change no matter the gadgets.
How the game is played is still the same.
Only the technique has changed.

Even though I'm so young.
I still feel so ancient.
Like I was meant to be born in 60's
I believe in the right protest.
I believe less government is progress.
I believe we must protect all our freedoms.

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Let's Protect Them

Those animals who are so badly abused,
Please everyone, let's protect them;
For those scared puppies and kittens confused,
Let's all agree, and really protect them.

For those poor whales swimming and are caught,
Let's please, stick with me to protect them;
To stop the cruelty to them, for their bodies are they bought,
Yes'. Please every one, agree to protect them.

For those seals so far away, of whom are killed,
Please everyone do try with me to protect them;
To stop the cruelty of how their blood is spilt,
Please most certainly agree to protect them.

For the bears and cubs, locked in chains,
Let's all agree to really go to protect them;
The cruel owners, and no one explains,
Let's try all, to get help to protect them.

For the dogs and cats, away in a farm,
Lets each one say no, but protect them;
Each time we hear of this cruelty, ring the alarm,
Then agree everybody, yes! We will protect them.

poem by Margaret Haig
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Protection

We don't need protection from terrorists anymore.
What we protection from is never-ending war.
Protect us from the propaganda.
Proect us from the lies.
Protect us from the legislation
set up to tyrannize.
Protect us from the vaccines
that cause more harm than good.
Protect us from the violence
that comes from Hollywood.
Protect us from injustice
emanating from the courts.
Protect our kids from drug enhancements
while they're playing sports.
Protect us from illegals taking all our jobs.
Protect us from the gangs and all the angry mobs.
Protect us from the wealthy who never have enough.
The terrorists are not coming.
It's time to call their bluff.

We don't need protection from terrorists anymore.
What we need protection from is right within our shore.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Beowulf

LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings
of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,
we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!
Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,
from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore,
awing the earls. Since erst he lay
friendless, a foundling, fate repaid him:
for he waxed under welkin, in wealth he throve,
till before him the folk, both far and near,
who house by the whale-path, heard his mandate,
gave him gifts: a good king he!
To him an heir was afterward born,
a son in his halls, whom heaven sent
to favor the folk, feeling their woe
that erst they had lacked an earl for leader
so long a while; the Lord endowed him,
the Wielder of Wonder, with world's renown.
Famed was this Beowulf: far flew the boast of him,
son of Scyld, in the Scandian lands.
So becomes it a youth to quit him well
with his father's friends, by fee and gift,
that to aid him, aged, in after days,
come warriors willing, should war draw nigh,
liegemen loyal: by lauded deeds
shall an earl have honor in every clan.
Forth he fared at the fated moment,
sturdy Scyld to the shelter of God.
Then they bore him over to ocean's billow,
loving clansmen, as late he charged them,
while wielded words the winsome Scyld,
the leader beloved who long had ruled….
In the roadstead rocked a ring-dight vessel,
ice-flecked, outbound, atheling's barge:
there laid they down their darling lord
on the breast of the boat, the breaker-of-rings,
by the mast the mighty one. Many a treasure
fetched from far was freighted with him.
No ship have I known so nobly dight
with weapons of war and weeds of battle,
with breastplate and blade: on his bosom lay
a heaped hoard that hence should go
far o'er the flood with him floating away.
No less these loaded the lordly gifts,
thanes' huge treasure, than those had done
who in former time forth had sent him
sole on the seas, a suckling child.
High o'er his head they hoist the standard,
a gold-wove banner; let billows take him,
gave him to ocean. Grave were their spirits,
mournful their mood. No man is able

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Baudelaire
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Soccer Rollback

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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Forever

I never wanted another
Come over to me and discover
How i want to be near you
And you need to be far away
You always seem to make me feel at home
Hey you
People like
I never knew, i never knew, i never knew why
You make me wanna cry
I never knew, i never knew, i never knew why
Forever live and die
I look at all of the people
Doing it over and over
You never get any older
I wish that you could be here
I look at you and i
Make the same mistakes
Hey you
People like
I never knew, i never knew, i never knew why
You make me wanna cry
I never knew, i never knew, i never knew why
Forever live and die
I never knew, i never knew, i never knew why
You make me wanna cry
I never knew, i never knew, i never knew why
Forever live and die
Repeat to fade

song performed by Omd
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Bride's Prelude

“Sister,” said busy Amelotte
To listless Aloÿse;
“Along your wedding-road the wheat
Bends as to hear your horse's feet,
And the noonday stands still for heat.”
Amelotte laughed into the air
With eyes that sought the sun:
But where the walls in long brocade
Were screened, as one who is afraid
Sat Aloÿse within the shade.
And even in shade was gleam enough
To shut out full repose
From the bride's 'tiring-chamber, which
Was like the inner altar-niche
Whose dimness worship has made rich.
Within the window's heaped recess
The light was counterchanged
In blent reflexes manifold
From perfume-caskets of wrought gold
And gems the bride's hair could not hold,
All thrust together: and with these
A slim-curved lute, which now,
At Amelotte's sudden passing there,
Was swept in somewise unaware,
And shook to music the close air.
Against the haloed lattice-panes
The bridesmaid sunned her breast;
Then to the glass turned tall and free,
And braced and shifted daintily
Her loin-belt through her côte-hardie.
The belt was silver, and the clasp
Of lozenged arm-bearings;
A world of mirrored tints minute
The rippling sunshine wrought into 't,
That flushed her hand and warmed her foot.
At least an hour had Aloÿse—
Her jewels in her hair—
Her white gown, as became a bride,
Quartered in silver at each side—
Sat thus aloof, as if to hide.
Over her bosom, that lay still,
The vest was rich in grain,
With close pearls wholly overset:
Around her throat the fastenings met
Of chevesayle and mantelet.
Her arms were laid along her lap
With the hands open: life
Itself did seem at fault in her:
Beneath the drooping brows, the stir
Of thought made noonday heavier.

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poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Added by Poetry Lover
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You Make It All Worthwhile

He arrives home. he fumbles in his
Pockets for his keys but there is no
Need. andrea is waiting to greet him
With open arms.
Wife:
Hello love. you look all worn out!
Let me take your brief case. thats a
Good boy. now you come and sit down
Ouer here and relax and Ill make you
A nice cuppa tea. then well have
Dinner and we can sit and watch the
Tele. by the way dear, howd you get
On at the office.
You make it all worthwhile
I mustnt stay in this job too long
I gotta get out before the hold is too strong
Gotta get out before my ambition is gone
cos its breaking me up and bringing me down.
But when I get home you make it all worthwhile,
You make me laugh and you make me smile
And after a hard day sorting out the files
You make it all worthwhile.
Wife:
Oh, Ive just remembered weve only got shepherds pie,
Do you like it?
Star:
No, I hate it.
Wife:
Hate it? but you see norman loves it so much and you did ask me to
Act normally, didnt you. I mean I cant cope with all that
Fancy stuff you like to eat.
Star:
Alright, Ill eat it and afterwards, Ill write a whole verse about
Your cooking.
You mustnt blame yourself like you do,
Its gonna make a nervous wreck out of you,
So wipe your nose and dry your eyes,
Whats the point of cracking up all because of shepherds pie?
Baby, you never know what Ive been through.
I break my back and sweat and slave
To bring some money home to you.
Baby, you wont believe it but its true
What a boring occupation can do,
It can make a nervous wreck out of you,
It can kill your spirit and destroy your mind.
But when I get home you make it all worthwhile.
You make me laugh and you make me smile
And after a hard day sorting out the files
You make it all worthwhile.
Wife:

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song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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Linux Concept(.SVCPD)

Name: Standardize Version Compatible Package Deployment.

Goals: 1. Make All Software On Linux Compatible By A Version Standard.

a: By this if you name something name_x.x.x.(1) and something else of the same version will not conflict with it. Only the number in the brackets will be important for this standardisation. Allow the software creators, programmers, and designers to state what stage the software is in. Why because I believe good organisation will produce better coding. Not just clean code, but clean files that call upon that code.

b: The inner compatibility is important an key. Why are Linux competing against each other? Why is it not a joint effort in it's entirety? Now I'm not speaking of their design or how something works by itself but with other and completely different software. Now imagine for a second if you wanted something that wasn't on you current os (Operating System) , but was on another Linux. Wouldn't it be nice if you could install their package. Without having to rebuilding the source to a package, compiling natively, or having to worry about if it will conflict with any of your currently installed files.

Now the third part of the version number name_x.x.2.x Let it describe the hardware it will work with. Let this number be tested and proven before it is given and if it not let the number clarify what hardware it is for and state it hasn't been completely tested yet. Thus the alpha betas what ever you want call them. Now the second number let it define a controlled listing of bugs/errors. And
let the very first number describe the current version of the modification in code or design.

Next let us add another number x.x.x.x -x
To describe any unavoidable conflicts in detail and to keep a listing of them of files in a specific version type.

Another thing I want from this packaging software.
Is the ability to covert packages between different types.
And upon conversion to.SVCPD I want it automatically generate this version number. I want to it access a database and return a number that describes everything I listed above. I want the user to see what will work, what won't, and explanation why other then just an error code. Or a compiler code. We need to make Linux more user friendly. But not in the eye candy sort of way. But instead in the usability way. Make it to where you can almost install any software on Linux within reason. I want to make it where the design of an operating system is more important then the window environment.
And it is already happening for alot operating systems already have multiple window environments installed.

Another goal is to have the software packaged in.SVCPD to no matter what software environment it is installed it calls upon files from that environment and has a gui interface of that environment. And it not to be necessary to install a different environment for it.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Added by Poetry Lover
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Protect The Future, Protect Our Children

(This poem is dedicated to the abused children)

It is more than a cliché to say
That our children are our future
They are in reality our future
Not our past or passé
We must protect our babies at any cost
From the West Coast to the East Coast
Day and night
They are our rainbow, our night light
Our angels, our bright light
We must protect our kids against all sorts of abuses
From Penn State to Rahway State
From New York State to Washington State
We must not tolerate stupid or noxious excuses
We must protect all of our children
Against all types of abuses
All the time, all the time
Dial 911, inform the authorities, so the scum can be booked
Or canned; so the Judge can throw
The books at the perpetrators of all despicable crimes
We must shield our infants with our rainbow
Against all sex maniacs who are sick in their mind
Our beautiful children are our future
Help them, feed them, and care for them
Don’t drag them in the gutter, in any mess
Do not abuse them physically
Emotionally or psychologically
Protect our baby sons and daughters
Protect our little brothers and sisters
Love them the right way
Pray for our children
Protect our little innocents
Use extraordinary common sense
Good morals and good judgments
When interacting with our little saints
Do not hurt our children
Protect the Future, protect our Children.

poem by Hebert Logerie (09 November 2011)
Added by Poetry Lover
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Father And Mother Africa!

A STORY I TELL THEE OF FATHER AFRICA AND MOTHER AFRICA!
THEY HAD SERVANTS AND ARMIES TO PROTECT THEMSELVES!
THEY AND THEIR SERVANTS HAD GUNS TO PROTECT THEMSELVES!
THEY HAD NUCLEAR AND ATOMIC BOMBS TO PROTECT THEMSELVES!
THEY HAD WARSHIPS AND WARJETS TO PROTECT THEMSELVES!
THEY HAD SUBMARINES AND SPACESHIPS TO PROTECT THEMSELVES!
THEY HAD SATELITES AND VIRA WEAPONS TO PROTECT THEMSELVES!
THEY HAD SPIRITUALISTS, MAGICIANS AND VOODOOISTS TO PROTECT THEMSELVES!
BUT I AM BEATEN FOR HOLDING ONTO A PIECE OF NAIL TO PROTECT MYSELF!
MY HOME AND BELONGINGS FORCEFULLY TAKEN FROM ME!
AYE! THIS ENEMY, I AM TOLD IS MY FATHER AND MOTHER!
THIS ENEMY, I AM TOLD TO RESPECT AND WORSHIP!
IF THOU BE IN SUPPORT OF THEM!
THEN, I PRAY, MAY FATHER AFRICA AND MOTHER AFRICA BE THEY FATHER AND MOTHER!
AND MAY ALL I GOT FROM THEM BE ALL YOU WILL GET FROM THEM!
THAT I MAY SEE IF YOU WILL RESPECT AND WORSHIP THEM!

poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
Added by Poetry Lover
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