~ Poetry by me ~
What you have spun, I will weave it;
a single threadīs such a lonely thing.
What you have woven, Iīll cut it;
what use is your work if itīs never done ?
What you have cut, I will tear, comb and spin;
itīs fit for another round on the wheel.
Đ 2005 Michaela
License: This poem may be freely distributed, provided it remains
unchanged, including the copyright notice and this License:
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