It is not what it is, is it?
It was, labeled burned
by you the it of voice of nothing.
You!
Yes you..gave my rights away
because you live in fear..of what..
of nothing except what you do.
So you would want to chip my child
next for what..?
So you can watch her from the sky
and play with your self,
in guise of what?
Who's sick fear is that...
Not mine! .So it must be yours?
You made your enemies over there,
here and where is it
to be next freedom from what..
from me or you..
not me they fear..so it must be you.
Play silly stupid think tank games
with them not me...it's you.
Don't clone me....
grow your own smiles..ok?
a painful poem poetry..what is that my friend...
Good Poem... I do think Big Brother is watching us all... Colin J...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Cloning is easier, a great blessing of our times, easy, bomm, another... But the original is always king, imitators won't do...smile and no worry.