The Holy Cow
One must imagine Sisyphus happy
Friday, 6 November 2009
She rubbed, scrubbed and scraped until
her palms were red and sore
But the writing on the wall remained
Taunting her more and more
Embarrassed and ashamed she was
About her disfigured core
And pleaded and begged for time to rewind
To the way it was before
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