All cries it new, all welcomes new.
Yet you are an old book grabber.
Sitting alongside the slanting rays!
Your back is turned to the world of praise.
To you, it's flying another leaf of calendar,
Torn n withered with dwindling loads of age.
‘Accept a change, flag a new' the world cries!
Your ears are shut, unmoved, nameless flavor.
Dusting an old note, quoting an old phrase!
Your back is turned to the world of change.
To you, it's chirping annoying song of quell,
Un-chorded rough with dwindling loads of age.
‘I am the change, can you hear me change'
Hope you speak this loud, mocking loads of age!
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