Grasp With Indifference
You till the land;
Nose stinks of sand.
You water throat;
Tum suffers gloat.
Like no difference;
Hope paints absence.
Like dreaming soil;
Seedlings seem spoil.
Cum every phase;
Fruits count on days...
Cum every need;
Mouths wish to feed...
Those that till..., stay!
Those for fruits..., stray!
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