We all could be wise
If we prised into the
Knowledge that books hold
Or the experience
We've made mistakes form
Cultivating wisdom
Is an art that's
Never done
Never knowing
What's accomplished
I see dead sparrows
To the way of work
I learn nothing
That is not evident
No piercing mystic
Insights
To form a framework
Of my life
Just the days
Lined up like drinks
To be drunk
With a fondness
For bees
Who stand for
Good metaphor
Storing sweet honey
For better days.
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