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IN THE STREETS OF CHINA I once sat above the bustling cities of China Where millions of feet march in its streets, Where many figures bump against each other, And countless heads roam, their numbers infinite. I sat and observed the busy streets of China, I sat and observed everyone from here over; I sat and observed as I sat and watched, I sat and watched what's going on there under. I saw there in the long streets of China Workers bearing each one's own burden Loaded on their backs, on their shoulders, Or most of the time, infront of them. They, the workers in the streets of China, Carry foods and goods in sizes varying — Some are in bulk, some are in bits — Whatever its size, they are carrying. What amazed me in these streets of China Are those carrying enormous loads as one, Those workers working in work groups, Helping each other — each and everyone. The workers in the buzzing streets of China, All of them work actively and diligently. They head from left to right and right to left, All coming and going very orderly. But then I saw, in the astir streets of China, Something that caught my curious eyes. Not that it was there to be openly seen, But it was there concealed from the naked eye. There, in the preoccupied streets of China, Amidst the workers are guards and soldiers Disguised as workers but arms ready, Wary of assailants and intruders. They, the soldiers in the streets of China, Watch every single worker very closely Making sure they all work and don't slack, But I don't think it's what they do really. For there in the crowded streets of China, I saw tunnels that leads beneath the surface Heavily guarded by soldiers and guards So no one can enter without being noticed. There, in the industrious streets of China, In the tunnels enters all the workers. And into the ground busier than above, They place their loads in different chambers. Now, beneath the noisy streets of China, Can be seen a whole different world — A world different from the above, A world that can't be described by mere words. There, beneath the brimming streets of China, Stretched hundreds of passages and channels Twisting and winding through turns and curves Heading deeper into the earth's bowels. Also there, beneath the streets of China, Are rooms and chambers of different sizes — Some are large and some are small — All for different purposes. Then I saw, beneath the streets of China, A third and a fourth unidentified entities Other than the workers and the soldiers, Having different works and other duties. Beneath these populous streets of China, In the deepest tunnels in the underground, In a secret chamber guarded by soldiers, A magneficient supreme being can found. Beneath the hardworking streets of China, Rests a creature that can rarely be seen, A creature all others work for and revere, The most important creature — their Queen. Beneath these engaged streets of China, It is she that all the works are for For she is the Queen and she is revered, And she is to be cared and to be nurtured. But beneath the abuzz streets of China, She has the most important role to play For she is the key to their survival — The life of future generations she lays. Deep down, beneath the streets of China, She gives birth to children of future times. Though she takes in most of the food supply, She gives out thousands of tiny balls of life. And there, beneath the streets of China, To assist to the great Queen's laboring Are the fourth and last fellows I saw — They are the nurses nursing the Queen. There beneath the flourishing streets of China, They feed their Queen the food she choose; And in secret chambers other than the Queen's The nurses raise the children she produced. From the very diligent streets of China To the more diligent world down under, The workers, soldiers, the nurses, the Queen — All live their diligent lives surprisingly proper. From here above the streets of China, All of these, without doubt, I clearly saw. Though I haven't seen everything literally, All of these filled me with wonder and awe. • • • This is by far the longest poem I've ever made — a product of a six-hour worth of brainwork. Wala lang, naintriga lang sa mga langgam🤣🤣
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Member since Aug 27, 2020
()Sep 01, 2020 06:03Poem!