PEACE
The glance turned towards the recesses
Of this immense world I make the care
To imagine all the men
Who live there like apple heaps
With It's they are the Yellows
Populating an immense ground which is torn
In the North of the White men
Hustle themselves wrongly and through
In the South the Black poor
Do not include themselves understand and commit suicide West Reds Torture themselves for useless banalities
Why all this torment on the ground Peace is often symbolized By the smile a man WHITE, YELLOW, BLACK, RED
The glance turned towards the recesses |
