Poets
POETS
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POETS
POETS
Some people are just different some people are just blessed
Some people are not better more humble than the rest of people seem
Some people make a stab at things unseen
A simpleton a farmer a soldier and the rest a laborer a warrior a vest
A statesman and a teacher a lion of a man and a little baby lamb
These poets These poets These poets of the land.
A Doctor and a Lawyer and the Indian.
A surveyor when he can find the time makes rhyme.
A carpet layer and a concrete maker the least of these and them.
A forgotten homeless in the corridor of time.
Endless women blessed woman making rhyme.
These Poets These Poets These Poets of the land.
Some people have so many problems stemming from the lust.
Some people have so many journeys starting on the dust.
Every march of a thousand miles begins with just one step.
Every poem written began with just one word.
Yellow and white and black as night.
These Poets These Poets These Poets of the land.
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