If your mind is a single country, or a state,
I would like to be the main and capital city,
and your thought’s nation that can conjugate,
with my orange Karma as a political entity.
If your tongue crochets slogans witty and smart,
I’ll be the sloganeer of the language and a word,
seeded and grown in the atrium of your heart.
Standing in the middle of this theatre of absurd,
I salute Dr. Frankl’s existential attitude,
and pledging for you to learn his cure,
get off, that high horse – American latitude,
buy back your bone marrow, and be mature.
Then, your mind will not need any political entity,
I’ll have my orange Karma, and you, your identity.
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