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As we sit waiting in our illusion mindWe await none but of the elusive timeThe birds in their nestYet we think not what is bestWhen their creepy noise is at restOur heritage which have long been soldThat we seek not but of oldBest in thought but rap in coldFailing to create none we seek of goldThe suffering though have long been foretoldClamoring in future hopeWhen we fail on how to copeOur fast track have been forgot in a lopeNow we seek prayer from a rat PopeOh! Those glorious days have long been goneHeritage our father's build have all been tornOur heritage abashed from the rule of the unknown mastersAll now is a story of disasterComing in with a face like that of a doveInnermost mind we know not but a predatorRuling out our heritage theirs is installed into oursNow we all love not of ours but theirs in every hours.
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This peom is about a woman in my life, who is suppose to be there for me but is not.
Dreams, desires, id and ego.
This poem is about our failure to feel fulfilled by our constant consumption of life.
Read it and find out.