Poem -
When a Mule
"Is too proud of his own Fool"
When a Mule - "Is too proud of his own Fool"
Often speaks a willow in the winds,
As envy becomes a natural spring.
The still mockery, is rooted deep within.
As salt, of no flavor, for it lost its savor.
Then hollows of dead wood, speaks the voice of a misunderstood fool.
Then he ask himself, what is this ugly foul odor he tells.
Is it HIMSELF ? ? ?
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