Oh, me Oh, life
Answer my questions recurring
The ones I cradle in my thought-filled womb
I, who is too a fool but not blind
Knitted the verse in life’s tapestry, embedded with youth’s fire and spirit
Yet the silverfish ravished them like their last supper
Those hereafter shapers crept into my flesh
Sipped; nipped; savoured
Tell me why are the sages considered as sharp as a feather?
When it is thee which cursive’s thy faith.

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