Crocked Ribs
They have command on me
my posture has been so
since birth and even now
a grown up, no change
The back has followed
the legs are going there
why can’t a guinea fowl
produce penguins, swans?
Why is choice in nature
so elusive, so limited?
Why can’t I become really
what I admire in nature?
I want to be free to be happy
but I’m condemned to be
a bent bow without arrows!
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