Telling a story final
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here i go...
i ll start with a thank you,
no need for fuzz around it.
i precede,
i can here it,
the stormy wind of change scorpions have sang about,
these a days it is not a created fantasy of mine anymore,
it is the wake up call,
and now i see,
i see more,
all this passing blessed night,
i have been only smoking the weed you gave me,
and with no intention at all,
i recalled ,
some how,
Amy winehouse,
the lyrics;
" tell your boyfriend next time he around,
to buy his own weed and don't wear my shit down"
you have a special connection with Amy, right..
don't we all..
yes your mimics and your words,
are now mine,
not able to leave my mind,
safe and fine,
you know....
it never comes in my mind like,
now i am gonna sit and make poetry
now i reincarnate
" Listen, real poetry does not say anything, it just ticks off the possibilities. opens all can walk through anyone that suits you"
i think now you can see where my soul is, you know who is this talking,
It is there running towards me,
high based, earth rumbling, elephant foots dropping on the ground
like if the promised day have come to a fact,
that is the change,
i am the change...

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