Longing Out To Be On Line

I long to be a sort of porpoise

Not belonging to a tortoise

Never to be called infauna

Always been in trauma

I long to be an angora rabbit

Never cloaking and forestalling for onset

No more precautions for hawks

Always indoors and no more storks

I long to be the next Flora

In orchards and orchids I have my aura

Or the next Oread

I will always be called

I long to be Emilio Aguinaldo

To forge democracy not to forego

To foster nationalism

To be portrayed a person of moralism

But all are not authenticity

Longing are not auditory but just in a corky

Ahoy! The morgue wharf have already come

for Maundy Thursday

Portal of vault orders no entry

Note: This is an original poem by Red Phantom.