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A poem for a poet

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When I open my mouth I can not lie, I look to the river and might cry, like the great ancient man named Croesus once said, “when in peace sons bury there fathers and when in war fathers bury there sons”. It’s a mixed up world which we live on and you never know where it is gonna be. The war going on in the mid east is like one rich mans feast, but it’s soon to be done, no more guns. Now we should run and have some fun, but soon will be none for the big bad storm which we live in will explode into the end. My love has been shot up down from the high sky it was ruling from. The prophetic eyes of the one are watching you from the sun and you have to conceal the notion to make the potion to bring you high upon the sky. Now its time the peace is none so fathers get ready to bury your sons.



Richard B. Stein

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