They never meet in town;
One is busy, climbing the ladder of hope,
The other, going back down.
The rich and poor from the start,
They are at ease with apartheid;
Yes, the facts decide the norm,
But the word, wrong and right.
|| Know no more about me, I, me and myself, in all; Than the perturbations of thoughts and feels, That, everyday, rise and fall.|| For an older version of my blog, visit here.
In the wilderness of the green lush trees, Between the sea and the hills; Mighty Poseidon of the seas - Upon the dazzling beauty of Kerkyra...
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