New Man
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Comrade
poetry is not a rhyme
poetry is not a song
poetry is everything that is defined
with the word Revolution
Poetry is not a lament
Poetry is discontent
Poetry is a generalized clamor
Poetry is the strike
it is a manifestation of the proletariat
Poetry is not well-educated
nor conditioned
not well packed
Poetry for us, comrade
is on the tip of the rifle,
poetry is in the foundation of the Party.
And if dreaming is allowed
I dream comrade
in building with the people
A NEW MAN
Comrade proletarian
Comrade misery
poetry is rebellion
you live
but alone, he does not do the REVOLUTION
a match is necessary
ORGANIZATION.
In front of the hardened hosts
and the trained dogs
Facing the bosses and their servants
We only have one answer
The organized proletarians
Suffering and tears
They will be the bread of our day
But we will never be accomplices
Of oppression and tyranny.
Drink our tears
let's eat our bread
that from that kneaded sweat
the Revolution will be born
When it rises to heaven
the first red star
my thought
faster than a spark
will run for you comrade
and we have to know each other
in peace; in Joy
in the Tool or in the Hoe
Comrade
poetry is not a rhyme
poetry is not a song
poetry is everything that is defined
with the word Revolution
Poetry is not a lament
Poetry is discontent
Poetry is a generalized clamor
Poetry is the strike
it is a manifestation of the proletariat
Poetry is not well-educated
nor conditioned
not well packed
Poetry for us, comrade
is on the tip of the rifle,
poetry is in the foundation of the Party.
And if dreaming is allowed
I dream comrade
in building with the people
A NEW MAN
Comrade proletarian
Comrade misery
poetry is rebellion
you live
but alone, he does not do the REVOLUTION
a match is necessary
ORGANIZATION.
In front of the hardened hosts
and the trained dogs
Facing the bosses and their servants
We only have one answer
The organized proletarians
Suffering and tears
They will be the bread of our day
But we will never be accomplices
Of oppression and tyranny.
Drink our tears
let's eat our bread
that from that kneaded sweat
the Revolution will be born
When it rises to heaven
the first red star
my thought
faster than a spark
will run for you comrade
and we have to know each other
in peace; in Joy
in the Tool or in the Hoe
Violeta › Very nice sculpture
carmen3521 › Great capture!
Smokey2017 › Nice sculpture
fortune › Nice sculpture shot
Lucia5 › Great capture!!
JasonJRogers › This is amazing Tammy, a great piece on defining poetry ? ?
dorageorg › So great!
soncee › Nice man sculpture
Deliana › Hello, my dear! Have a blessed Monday & enjoy the new week!
maca1 › Beautiful sculpture
DAIANAGABAR › Beautiful article
indexer › To be honest, I can't be too enthusiastic about this poem.