Handle me any pen even this cheap
The richest will be when enter my deep
Hurry to carry the change to the world
To scatter on any page my words
From long ago they're prisoned on my heart
Begging me to speak them aloud
Between the head and my deep they're buried
On this road which only the truth carried
Our people are overloaded with stress and pain
They're in need for hope as their need for rain
These aren't words to be written on walls
Or to be lined as poems or books and put on stores
Hope is to be lived and achieved
Not a cup to be risen and cheered.
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