(Final Part: Poetic Choice)
The greener, flowery path with a long line,
and a dreamy, fairy castle in its far end
will lead me to be a clownish beautician,
who may cover any spoiled city of stench
with a magical carpet with full of soft fur
and being at a distance, adore its grandeur;
who may, being enchanted by big ransoms
of money or comfort for body and emotions,
create a dreamy, fairy and fancy paradise;
who may hide elimination of an entire nation,
highly hailing how it controls over population,
‘nd spoon feeding listeners with honey-dipped lies.
Hence, the choice for me is plain and simple
I’ll never be a satirist to rot my own soul,
or an escapist beautician, a fancy, cushy liar.
However challenging and difficult it may be,
a brave and bold tragedian, I will choose to be;
the nobler the purpose, the bolder my pen will be.