My name is Julius
And my life is fairly comfortable.
Sometimes I complain about life
But I always remind myself
'There is always someone with worse problems'
'So don't you let out of your mouth a moan'
There have been times I think I've been through the worst,
But then I hear worse.
That's why I recline to curse.
Just this biography appears like a poem,
And I'm open to learn more techniques from those who want to show them.
All types of writing are like different types of buildings,
Except the letters are the bricks, and the finished writings are those buildings.
Just as a Hotel is different from a Library
So is a Sonnet different from a Bible text talking about 'Calvary'.
I want to learn more, and know more, so those who have read this,
Please I ask of you, to accept my hand of friendship.
Torn Apart
Many a year ago, there was one
And that one grew to few
And that few to many
And that many became one
And from that one, came strength
But there was one who left
Betrayed by the people called one
The one people accumilated a pride
A pride that the one people could not fight or hide
And so the unity of the one people became numb
One by one, the end was to come
To those that all the people had once been one
And the one who vanished, who was first betrayed
Who was hated, murdered, then in his grave now he laid
Was the one that existed many a year ago