Al Brecker
Madame, you shall be my widow!
I’d as soon be hanged for a sheep,
Not just to all human potential,
We will continue to propose ideas.
Where flowers degenerate, man cannot live.
I always wish I could say,
You go up and down,
I couldn’t figure out their attitude.
Palmyra has its own fate.
First one of them came out to fight,
You’ll be glad you picked me up,
It’s sleek and smooth.
They want to get invited,
Piling up difficulties and duties,
Now led by thy resistless hand,
The nephew advanced along the road.
Recycled Poetry 