A grand puzzle is a problem of order,
Order may run out, the circle is round;
Gases seep into the breathing air,
Fulfilling me in every puzzling manner,
They require order to stop the spread of gas.
May you turn into use and generosity,
Killing me with kindness and love.
I request for genuine aid as a father
And sons shall solve and define.
We need the most beautiful children
To solve the problem of life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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