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ALL THIS SAD WHILE

I walked; I ran;
ploughed into a tree

unlike the hunter-gatherer
I am supposed to be

and in that collision such
a jolt to my brain

could not
look at my stalk or be stalked
world in the same way

but sat beneath that tree
from which a book did fall
full of negativity, philosophy
and morals of mortality

which, to my sorrow,
I did imbibe
brain bursting
its bounds all
this sad while.