A Baby-Brinkmanship(Poem) Poem by cheung shun sang

A baby -brinkmanship

Open the opals are stones that grind

Truths on tops will laws are rings

Boxes on broads will loss on width

Heads are hints to options


Mother s laws are not massive norms

Master s tag the mass in courses

Child with chalks has words to put

Stand on smiles have songs of lucks



Cog in corns will sad for truths

Fall between the stools not up

Codes in coins can choose two ways

Fates with fames where matrix lay


Fatal falls are guys to tanks

Twists are terms to march our fates

Draw up dances on polished stages

Polls are dots that sum up laws


Play the dumps not pass the drums

Press the papers jigged our mouths

Moths are move and sleep and fly



Fires from flies are glow with spots

Bright and brisk are kings of God

Cog on corns will sad for truths

Bring up spins our worlds have turns


Rinds are ranges not forces in bones

Hearts are hard to take in bonds

Holders show up home to buy

Buy off benches of laws in busy


Posts on punches are laws for polls

Poems on points with codes in pomp

Cogs in corns and draws on globes

Brink with ranks when laws are loaded


Beg on buns are forms for some

Bundles put in banks of loves

Hatred grow as hays in wild

What on air are bad for wields



Wheels of wits are loss to wheels.

Guns and wheels are tanks in hell.

Fires are fingers tips of devils.

Thinking gets things supporting evils.


Burning jades are buried for just

June of Arc has arm to judge

Come to coins with faces that shine

Worry about worst for thinking things

--Poem on politics and lives by Cheung Shun Sang=Cauchy3--