What if this made it happen
will I call it karma
I see derivatives
and you renal
when we see calculi
Should have held on tight when we had thing, I let loose
I'll retrieve what I buried
when I get close,
No different from a dog, a nuzzler
Shall you find a biznaga
then follow your fourth sense,
for that's where lies my chalaza
All that is but a lost sailor,
hoping you'll see the tip of his jibboom
I attempt to code this poem so everyone will understand the message but only she could make 100 percent meaning, if she ever comes across it. There is a name.
