THE NERVE
The nerve has
Its own way
It detests
Drviations or new ways
For all the efforts
Of shaman or dame
The wind sits silently
As its door
Voices from within
It hears themore
The wolf howls
The minx scowls
Under pretext of ‘fair’
they play the foul
We begin to welcome
Such a play
Whether we are young
O r grey.
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