Tuesday, December 8, 2015

The origin of Myour


The origin of Myour
Michael Langerman for Eric
Edited by Anastasia

A poem as a song - it lives while men sing it.
From here it's Yours.
'Cause I believe you can do it better than me.
I dare you to read it out loud!
Take it.
Make it.
Care for Myour!

The boy with his father
On the way from the school 
To the gym, where gentle way rules,
In the New city built by those
Who stand for freedom,
Stops at the coffee shop - 
Not to pret anybody.
But for the boy to eat soup
After washing his hands,
And for his father to drink
A cup of dark coffee.
They sit with a spoon of the soup,
And the smell of hot java,
With pens in their hands,
They think of the world
No men ever dared think of yet.
They think - that's what men do
When there is nobody around to do it for them.
And they draw some pictures.
Some ugly,
Some very much ugly.
One of the pictures stands out somehow!
It differs with kindness.
The boy says:                  
             I like it.
                                I want it.
                                                   It's my!
The father responds:                           
For my to be your - 
You have to add something to it.
Something that's missing!
Draw lines, add some colors and...
Give it a name.
We name what we love - it's very important!
A name makes it so special.
It gives You the power!
I dare you to make my - your,
And it could be our!

Those words gets mixed up in the sound of - myour!

You take it.
You make it.
You care for Myour!

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