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Am a Poet, Forgive Me

For the love of the poems I wrote a very long time ago. Had to chuck this that showed that no matter what, what you write will always be forgiven..so take that pen, ink and paper...and scribble all those darn words that make you edgy,..and after a while, you will heal...and no one will judge you. Blame it on the poetry!

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So I fill my pen with filth

Dress of new so he pays my bill

I take your spouse and drive him to his fill

Then give you a smile and don’t care how you feel?

Don’t call it lust or rot,

Call it satire…

Coz am forgiven, am simply a poet

So I hide beneath the veil of religion,

Skeptic at the very sight of a virgin with son

So what if I put no cloak at the pulpit

And maybe take pork on a Friday mosque turret?

Don’t call it a curse or a kafir in scorn

Call it simile,

Am in Rome and am like the Romans…

So I prefer my solitude to your fake prayers,

Think that God is a chauvinist and should be female,

So what if I hate politics,

And vie as senate when in flows cash

Smoke the atmosphere with black soot

Coz after all, is it not my land?

Don’t call it ignorance, not even gourmet relief

Call it sarcasm,

For I am forgiven …am just a poet

So I write what I see

Maybe fake what I should have seen

Sometimes camouflage my soul in bricks of blood

Talk to graves and despise crying infants

So what if s*x aint related to love

And shyness is a hue for retarded idiots…

I care not…call me ironic, maybe metaphorically hyperbolic.

Am still a poet…am always forgiven!!

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