The Life


Life is like a weather-man's parade,
A spun-out ride of calamity,
Such details lost like blue winds,
In ever-green plateau's
Or high desert mountains,

All of the images,
My mind displays,
Are radiating,
Yet transparently,
Confining themselves,
Into whatever isometric language,
They deem fit

This poem is about: 
My family
My community
My country
Our world


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