Friday, November 30, 2012

Give me a new robe
That I may walk out of this wrapper
Long worn out, stained,
And be worthy of your presence.
But, your eyes, you think
My skin might have earned
A few patches, flesh some ulcers,
Which would defile my new robe ?
You would rather wait
Until I buy some balms from your stores,
Paint the corrupting discolour,
Heal myself,
And then join the queue?
Ah! That of course is quite constitutional,
For you always say you are rule-bound.
I have no complaints.
But you can give me one of
Your old robes, you have used and put away,
For such purposes, your volunteers have
No access. Even if you do so,
It is not the first time you would,
And you shall be doing it to me
For the last time.


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