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.
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