Gift From The West - Poem by Abdul Wahab
I never remember the time table or run for any train, I dislike to fill my tape with these nonsense record I thought time will wait, train will come, that day I waited long, all day gone, I was left alone, I boarded in, the lonely passenger of the last train, sat at the window, the butt I puffed and licked while counting skyscrapers, passing the green trees and frequently I made ring of the nicotine, took delight when they got a perfect round, at every halt I faced the same face of the same moon, the same penchant smoke of the different industries, the nicotine and the smoke are all the same, they slowly but suck and burn, I have now no blood, fresh, neither I feel any pain, the day is a bondage, the light is tyrant, the night brings for me the freedom to think, the dark demon is only the piece of mind, the sun of tomorrow will be the same son of swine, red, blood drunkard, will play again heinous hide and seek, I do not like him to come each time to drive me out, I wish he sets and settles permanently, a gift from the west.
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