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Where flowers are to be eaten

Poetry By: Benyoucef
Poetry



It's the finest description I could make about my country


Submitted:Mar 27, 2011    Reads: 87    Comments: 7    Likes: 6   


It's where the black sweat of the earth
Is thought to be blood
And that liquid through our veins
Is thought to be mud
Blood banks will never supply us
In spite of the flood
Yet,here we are wasting our bullets
In vampire season
Here in my country
Where flowers
Are to be eaten
**************
**************
It's where the line between the sexes
Is colored in pink
Because of law washing religion
In a feminine ink
Along with dishes men are rinsing
Their pride in the sink
Amazon is not a myth
And you know the reason
It's in my country
Where flowers
Are to be eaten
***************
****************
It's where a pillow is nothing more
Than a colorless wall
So when you sleep your dreams will take
An actual fall
Don't be surprised whenthat occurs
It's destined to all
When your deserves and what you hope
Are not even even
You're in my country
Where flowers
Are to be eaten
****************
*****************
It's where happened more than three strikes
But no one was out
Because of claiming for the right
And having a doubt
Stopping what's already stopped
Is what the story about
And so, the wheelchair is stuck
For this paralyzed region
Which is my country
Where flowers
Are to be eaten
*************
***************
It's where death is the only drug
That is still safe from expense
Compared to life with all its madness
It will always make sense
So when you find only one spot
Where they have lowered the fence
Will you escape to where you know
That life will not sweeten?
Out of my country
Where flowers
Are to be eaten
*******************
******************
It's where a dream can only be
Immaculately conceived
Over here it was neglected
Overseas is believed
And after all, the dream of dreming
Is what have been achieved
To redefine sleep is an act
Of national treason
Here in my country
Where flowers
Are to be eaten
******************
**************
It's where a million dead have built
All our leaders and thrones
And where we're still trying to fly
Using featherless bones
Cash can never be extracted
From our history loans
So, grave digging is still alive
Because our memory won't weaken
Here in my country
Where flowers
Are to be eaten
************
*****************
********************
A pretty seed can only grow
To a devilish plant
We know the way to raise a rose
But this gardener can't
We stay aside without a job
Yet we suffer and pant
And when the harvest time will come
We'll be brutally beaten
Because those flowers will eventually
Need to be eaten




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