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The Poets
They are truth wearers
They scream, cry, whisper, sing, laugh
Sometimes, people hate them
For displaying their wounds and scars
For making them sad and careless
For making them see the reality
Sometimes, people love them
Because of them, they dance
In the temples, on the beaches,
Through crowded streets
Because of them, blue sky , painted with gold
Rule the day
And when they read these wonderful poems
The veils which hide the light fall down
And the glowing comets
Flash around their suns
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