Curiosity's Bane
A tree, a seed, prescribed, off-limits.
Naked, clothed, some years, fresh still,
Fair, hell, firm, etc.
Dangling tags, seen on anything
Man learns, as his feet stands and sits.
He meets firm labels and loud leads.
Patterns his feet flow in, with ease.
And ends, well-clear from older prints
Acceptance is oft done by force.
Fear, though fierce, drowns not heart’s uproar:
The schism that births a new course.
And with more legs, births a new dawn.
These rows have given life new teeth
And make ageless earth look so young:
Lay on her, new beds of beauties,
As new unruly legs are formed.
Such rows also lead to disgust
And turn shame into things just.
They miss the wisdom old prints give
And make proud chains with fate ugly.
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