There's Nothing

There's nothing in this
Who you're exactly is.
The problem is the question
Which sounds like a suggestion.
And never mind those habits
Which destroys paitience credit,
Considering disaster,
Which's caused only by Master
In this kind of Good Feelings.

Should know more than two meanings
Of every single purpose
To trick the Clock of Corpus...

And win the race of turtles.

                            15.07.2012.
                                     NikA
Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

Poem

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