Hold hands, behold my palms with care,
Fronds of frustration you’ll find there.
My life’s arrow shot loose in air,
Oh points at me alone, nowhere.
Face of my tears can’t be seen bare,
I’ve learnt the hard way masks to wear.
Mixed with the soil’s earthy flavour,
My wounds have learnt fragrance to share.
Of course this world takes goodly care—
A la...
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