This Humble Fellow Too A Trickster
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They restrained me to open my mouth
They needled my mouth with tough twine
This humble fellow too a trickster
Knows the loophole
Sowed the non-utterance in the soil...
In course of tine germinated, grown up.
Now lowering down hungry aerial roots
lie waiting...
Whenever they would come (have to come)
within my shadow-circle
twisting their necks hang up in the air.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş