The Clouded Hearts!

Glory to the stubbornly intelligent muse, Frozen and sculptured as the pole less nose, Spread over the sturdy barren and forest bosoms, Stranded around in every selfish nation, Chill as the dry ice in a season, Warm as the hot chicks for a reason, Roller-skate with no brakes and pistons, Hide that peeping Tom's one eyed vision, Have no papers to cross the borders, Not proved anyone how to shoulder, A few days journey and a few nights' board, Free as the migrant birds, not as the brutes, Whose heads are counted to get shocked, During census, when get hot and broken, Hail stones are showered as the bullets, Thousands of innocents are stoned to death, Not for their sins, but for the thawing of our thoughts.