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I proudly tread the pieces
Of broken glass in me.
And in my veins I feel
The pulse of an eternal day.
Standing before the altar
Winking at the holy man
and as I slap him fiercely
I wake the sinner in him again.
Last night my father told me:
"You.You'll have no joy.
You're better off a snail
Than trying to be a poet,boy!"
I find these words are truthful,
But something in my head -
Tells me I shouldn't follow
Oh! I'd be better off dead.
Today I see they've published
My first obituary.
Oh,what can I do,
The devil is stabbing his fork into me.
That's why I'll bark,
That's why I'll howl.
WE ARE NEW GENERATION FOREVER
AND OUR QUESTIONS ARE
TO AN ENTIRE NATION
FOREVER.