For she'd said to us:
'Your friend is proud,
Pushing up his wretched arms,
Merging claims with ego,
Elating his soul in folly:
For pride goes before destruction.'
Prunning her words like grape,
His matter seem to escape.
Founding a pill to his aiment
Proferring solution to the carnivorous question:
Wether he too has a blur part.
I think i heard the lady reply him:
'No, not yet, i don't think you're flawed'.
And then he seem to be soothed.
Do you put your head in an haven,
Admonishing your heart to tarry for ease?
Do you seem to find shelter,
In human words constructed with torns.?
Do you give yourself(by man's word)joy,
When confusion is to you coil?
"Give yourselve joy first to find joy in what other people give".
Do not enrol in the college of man wits,
Get a certificate and be to yourself an hermit.
18: 01: 17: 17: 49
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