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Monday, 9 July 2007

Untitled

The Green Fairy came to me one day
And asked me where did Shakespeare go to.
Unfazed by her intricate beauty,
I knew, by drawing implications,
That it was a catch-22-kind-of-riddle.

If I had answered her wrongly,
She would deliver a fatal bite,
From which a lethal poison would flow
And go to my heart and make it bleed.
I will eventually die.

If I had answered her honestly,
She would deliver a kiss,
From which a lethal poison would leak
From my lips to my heart and make it stop.
I will immediately die.

So, I kept quiet
And that is how I live to tell the tale.
She sits on the pulse on my wrist
Awaiting my answer.

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