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An appeal to myself, a poem

Updated on June 2, 2013

An Appeal (to my inner)

No, no burial, no suppression
a straight disposal
the entire era, eradicated
a total wipe out
no remains, none at all

compressed and scrunched into combustion packets
ready to be burnt, to be turned into ashes, to be gone with the wind

grant this slave freedom
comfort this victim of emotions
ease this burdened laborer
cure this cancer patient
relieve this tree from termite
rescue this particle from decay
befriend this loner

serve justice to this innocent prisoner, a Madonna
strengthen this sculptor, to carve for better
help the sealed, find an anti-dote for this poisonous adhesive
aid this addict, retreat to life

dampen this deprived, drought land
fulfill the cracks, relieve the pain
impregnate them with joy, tranquility
enrich them with fertilizer
shower them with all there is,
till this land springs back to the original state


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