Yet I see the you-child help,
brick by brick, them build
your doom. Entrapment
in a single cell apartment.
Pruning your branches into single tranches.
I wait like the snake
with an apple between the bit
no move will you make
they lied - "Apples are not safe t'eat."
Bite adventure, rebel against censure.
Will the you-grown wear,
brick by brick, your doom?
Will your life be caged,
an ameobic mind trapped?
Cell division may sway immolation.
Most dear is fire to the sons of men,
most sweet the sight of the sun;
good is health if one can but keep it,
and to live a life without shame. (Havamal 68)http://gewessiman.blogspot.co.uk