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It was another boring day within those walls
From the book he read and of experiences he taught
The baskets, the chants, the announcements took it most
Disappointed the stones had to know.
Late on that sunny late morning searching where to reap,
A voice captured a sense weary to find something to grip.
Come let me tell you a secret; why sacred
Haven't boxes been advertised
To attest the extent of the belittlement.
Hope is a bargain faith is to sustain
Be on your heels and make it quick to maintain.
Race, yes, race must there be a horn?
On that sideline reality brings no mourn.
Why then pull it by its horns closing the door to truth,
Hiding in the light to mischief, what is there to prove?
Screams, shouts, fear feed this insatiable hunger
Behold! suddenly, the streams run backward.
Isn't it insanity to listen to an insane who,
Supposedly is to speak absurd?