In my hours of bliss
Here in this world full of words
In my time of grief
You’re my poem I’ll always write
and the story of my life

Copy right
Copy write
Copyrights
Copywriter
Copying and writing
Is copying right
My work is not copied and written
My work is not copyrighted
Except in my mind
To write
Is to Cope right

would you sell your mother for some cash?
watch her getting stripped, misused and harassed?
playing deaf to her calls for help
while greedy men cut her wild hair,
while they dig deep into her soils,
reaching for gold and precious oils
that simply didn’t come for them
but they search all over again,
would you close your eyes when
you meet her desperate stare ?
begging for some help,
praying to be saved ?

day after day
ignorance takes over care
as her once fertile skin
turns gray,
her tears face
draught,
skin wrinkles and fades
the life she gave you once breaks
under the pressure of her overheat,
but why bother?
she’s just a money-making machine.
you take, you greed, you win.

would you sell your mother for some cash?


then why do you sell our nature ?

.
He is just another notch
     on her sterile bed of love.
He is just another victim
     of conquest for her thighs.
She is just another link
     in his daisy chain of woe.
She is just another span
     on his long bridge of sighs.


© Pagan Paul (21/05/17)

There is nothing
That everything can’t be found from
Nothing to you, could be the world to someone
Nothing and Something maybe they are related
Maybe in turn to everything
Nothing is not alone in the world
Even the dictionary has something to say about nothing :)