We'll never admit
     we are each a hybrid:
     the world transferred
     into our very blood and flesh-

    our self we never did create
    copying, imitating and reproducing
    has long been our estate
    too much indeed for regretting-

    in this our bud-grafting
   our intrinsic has been stolen
   we've lost our original voice
   gone are our moments golden

   and what's left
   is but the living numbness
  our will and hope have vanished
   and our heart is  bereft and homeless