The Anger of A Writer

But you think I am too scared to talkCan I borrow your voice to speak my words?And if you think that would not reach,Can I borrow your legs to trek to Czech?If that would be too painfulCan you give me wings to fly the sky?But then you think I am too dullCan I borrow your charm to toast the girls?And if you think I am too weakCan I borrow your strength to win the race?And for those who think I am just hideousCan I borrow your beauty just for a while?Of course you think I am a cowardHave you a hammer? Show me the nail.And if you think I cannot strikeWill you stand in for a guinea pig?And now you say I am just poorHow much can you lend that I’ll live upon?Can you borrow me some food,Water,Salt,Rice?Can you just borrow me your life, Fool?Well, let all man be themselves!
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