Beauty of Odd
From the simplicity of a straight line you originate,
Yet asymmetrical in shape,
Only your designer takes note,
Beauty of odd.
Eyes expressionless,
They marvel at how you conduct yourself.
You, they wish to compress,
Lips and tongues arid,
No echo of theirs to witness,
Beauty of odd.
Place your calabash on your head,
Walk back to your hut,
New news of you is to be told,
You have one thing left,
Your beauty of odd,
Only your designer takes good note.
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