Lived many a lives
Through many a books
Parched and dehydrated
But all consumed
My precious time
I deny not
The thoughts
Which hold its wings
But what I say of those
Who toil sweat and skin
How many fields
Irrigated my Earth
How many lay abundant
Feeds my volition
How many trees
Weep in tears,
How many inks
Spills the dust
Hold me tight
To nurture my nature
All is getting bypassed
by the read and aftermath
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