The Lost Identity
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A mug of English beer
in an Irish Pub,
And a plate of Italian Pizza
from a Mexican Grill,
Van Heusen Shirt and a Khaki pant
Underneath the tattered jockstrap he wears; This Nondescript man
Walks along the foreign street
And when the cops stop him and ask his identity
He says that's lost during the World War II
And that's why I am searching everywhere
The precious document that's worth than the life it seems!
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş