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Making Love
Sometimes the full moon’s
Caught tying knots in
Thoughts about the way
Things happen and in
Those age old questions,
Where are we from,
Why are we here,
Where are we going,
Without knowing we
Trudge along with the
Simple understanding
That our governments
And religious leaders
Are adept in the art of
Lying and deception,
Numbed by this the
Many let a few decide,
We simply hang on
For the ride forgetting
Only when we’re sleeping,
Or deep in passion
Making love.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
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