Knowledge is like a flying bird,
Kept in an illusion to be free,
They try searching for the path,
But every time they get is so deep,
In this jungle there is no sleep,
And crying will be a fish’s sorrow,
As their hearts believes in tomorrow.
Searching this is their only hope,
Money makers measure their life rope,
Through fire all lions disappear,
Their hope will still ring out every fear,
Winning is the fighter’s faith,
Beginning lives on as a hard math,
Hope is a land that can’t be seen,
Wealth is their subject to be keen.
They are scavengers,
All day bleeding,
Now and then crying,
They do not want reservation,
They want consideration,
Not evil fiery wand made,
Only grasp to plague the poor,
Knowledge, like air, is vital to life,
Like air, no one should be denied.
All life is problem solving,
And no one is said to be knowing,
As a scavenger strive,
To the end to survive,
Search it until said to be goon,
Intelligent you will be soon,
An investment in knowledge,
Always pays the best interest.
[JOS POETRY]
©JOSEPH
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