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Your sheep skin drapes
Far too loosely, boy.
You're much too starved
to be taken seriously.

You've spent too much time
Grinding your teeth against the wind,
And too little whittling
Courtship with your claws.

They're all going to laugh at you, boy.
Your wool-woven fool's crown
Tells you it's true.
They're all going to laugh at you.
C.Voss (2010)

— The End —