1 Chorus Lines 1 -Tales
of Half-Men
A bitter break in historic bonds it is
and I am a child of midnight
of relations rooted,
in societal ethnicity
and a maniac in search of a location.
A babe of dreams unrealized,
played with sticks and shepherds,
cows, buffaloes, sheep and goats
I took little pets to the pastures,
cocks, hen, parrots and pigeons followed
without noise at a distance,
as we shared sighs and sights,
of immature love with tender wet skin
under dark shades of trees.
I talked to birds I remind
and animals I took to the grass land
at times, eyes spoke a crypt language
which even I failed to decipher.
Who am I, a question arose?
am I man, a thought surges?
As relations and blank space haunted,
an area of love, of sound and music
appeared radically mystic
as I failed to define a wet skin of passions.
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