To at once again become whole
As we once were whole, but perhaps
It is not as I have said it, the lapse
Between the now and then-soul
Is too much even for my pretense
To make a show of present tense;

But dear ones, do consider this
In your quite air-conditioned mind
Did you at least once escape find
Hurtling into an all-present bliss
Of terror, love, grief and rage
If only by falling into a page?

But we are more than what we are
And so buffered in our padded cell
Do indeed find each other hell
A person other, unless wound or scar
Cut a pore in our perfected shell
The egg broke — then out yolk fell.

‘Don’t tread on me’ they loudly said
But a crushing is sort of what we need
Suffering a lot might make a creed
If not for making quite many dead
But you! Take heart and wear the wreath
Becoming holey will help you breathe.

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