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Sunday, 2 November 2014

Accept All Fines

Fine with all fines which life imposed,

I am no sage,

Who will have no rage,

But we get out,

What we put in pot,

Then this is life,

You have to brood,

In the depths of solitude,

All alone,

Like a stone,

And blend together,

The torn pieces of life,

Like offing,

We have to accept hate,

As this is fate.