Misty Mysticism Poem by Mark Richardson

Misty Mysticism



Hurried cries in velvet skies
Had mishaps from blinkered eyes
My surprise, I’ve agonised
As I rise to say goodbyes

They kiss the palm, wish you no harm
Then kept you warm, the day you born
You dropp to knees, bow now Obama
Can only please, the Dalai Lama

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