Sleeping Gazer

Nations, countries, territories You can’t see me over those Piles of rubbish, telling stories Fake old glories they impose They attempt to pluralize me Politicians of all sorts As if I was legalizing Their repressions by default Hope you won’t generalize me For some doctrine or a scam You can always sympathize me Taking me for what I am For I’m not an implication Of some national decree I’m a different variation Written in a different key I’m a ball your dog would like to Play with, in the afternoon I’m a sunbeam, shining through Leaves of autumn in your room You would laugh and think I’m crazy (Those who aren’t, must be rare) At the last row I’m a gazer Sleeping in my easy chair.